After the Reapers
by porcupinetheater
Summary: Shepard conducted his exit in a blaze of glory to destroy the reapers. Two great powers fell together. However, as a new threat arises, and members of his old crew begin to die mysteriously, it is evident that he will always be needed. Tali/Shep pairing
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This is merely the first of many chapters. After the Reapers is going to be a long story, but in all fairness, it can warrant a fair bit o' time to re-establish the events of the Mass Effect series, post-canon. The plot is original, but the characters and locations remain entirely in the hands of the folks up at Bioware, with whom I have no affiliation. Please note that there are also a number of occasions where this story takes on a much darker tone than that commonly found in the Mass Effect games themselves. I hope you enjoy, and please, feel free to read and review as you see fit. Thank you.**

Chapter 1

Fallout

"Shepard is dead, Miss Lawson."

"We brought him back once, we can do it again."

"We've taken that gamble already, and I watched as he betrayed Cerberus at our most crucial moment!"

"But he accomplished the objective in spite of it."

"And therein lies the heart of the matter, Miss Lawson. The reapers are destroyed; the galaxy no longer needs Shepard. His purpose is served."

"No. The galaxy will always need Shepard."

He watched Miranda Lawson as she turned and left the room. He could admit she was beautiful. He allowed himself to admit that, had he the leisure to listen to his own interests, he would very likely be attracted to her perfectly engineered form. However, The Illusive Man had shut down these feelings years ago. You didn't rise to the top of a galaxy wide organization by chasing after women.

As she finally made her exit, glowing faintly in orange light from the planet that slowly rotated behind him, its atmosphere swirling in gentle, pulsing waves, the Illusive Man retrieved the cigarette from its tray on the chair's armrest. The soft glow at its tip could only be faintly distinguished against such a beautifully imposing backdrop.

His thoughts once again turned to business matters. Operative Lawson's focus had lessened marginally ever since his refusal to allow her to accompany Shepard further following his abandonment of Cerberus. He could barely hold her focus after the news of his second death reached her.

Shepard. Even in death he was causing problems for The Illusive Man. It was times like this that the Lazarus project seemed like the greatest, and admittedly only, mistake he had made since Cerberus' inception. However, his ever working mind wasted no time in rationalizing that, had it not been for Shepard, the reapers would almost have certainly destroyed everything that had been created over the past several millennia. But that threat was gone now. No sense now in bringing back all these problems. Shepard's purpose had been served. And the galaxy was about to enter the era of humanity.

* * *

"Shepard has become an even greater legend in his death. This is our chance to establish humanity as the rightful holders of the council!"

Captain Anderson groaned inwardly. He had had this conversation many times. Udina was becoming more trouble than he was worth. Anderson once again responded with the reply that he had said seemingly returned to hundreds of times, one still yet to make an impression.

"Or with Shepard gone, humanity's greatest hero, the other species may lose all faith in our species permanently, and revolt. I believe it's time we put aliens back on the council, Udina."

* * *

"My condition is worsening. It is becoming difficult to breathe, and I am exhausted. It doesn't matter what I do, I can feel it in my body. I am nearing my end."

Thane Krios's breathing was shallow, his chest quickly moving in out, trying to drink in the air that is atrophying lungs would not take.

Kolyat looked down at his father, hunched over, pathetic. He still harbored a deep anger for the man who had abandoned him, left him to a violent world, left him to fend for himself. Kolyat only felt sympathy for the shell before him. He held no regrets that he had only met his father a year ago. Thane was a filthy hypocrite, stopping his son from following his own chosen path, trying to fill in the gaping hole that had been left in his life.

None of that mattered any more. In a matter of weeks, maybe even days, the man who Kolyat could not bring himself to think of as a father would be gone, leaving his life as quickly as he had entered into it.

Thane looked back into his son's eyes. Their gazes met, Thane's full of pain and regret, Kolyat's only cold and blank. Thane looked away again, and spoke softly, so softly that Kolyat had to strain to hear what was said.

"Tell Shepard I have passed on. May the Gods forgive my sins."

Kolyat looked away, suddenly saddened. It was heartbreaking to watch someone slowly lose their mind, no matter who they were, or had been. Thane was even closer to death than Kolyat had guessed.

He had heard of Shepard after the destruction of Sovereign, the death of the Council. Kolyat even had the opportunity to speak with him for a few moments on the Citadel, although in admittedly not the best of circumstances, the conversation spoken between drawn weapons.

Kolyat also knew that that man was dead, killed outside the Citadel in a desperate suicide run against the final reaper, alone in his ship, with the drive cores failing, and all comm arrays down.

The young drell was about to leave behind the frail man who had played his father, but found himself instead slowing to a stop. This was not the same man who had left him behind on Kahje, condemned to live alone, with no choice but to follow in his footsteps. He turned back to the empty room, furnished with only a hard-backed chair and a bed. Fixing his eyes on a small knot in the wooden floor, he spoke softly. "Good-bye, Father. I will tell Shepard what it is you have said."

With that, Kolyat left the room, leaving Thane as trapped and alone as if he were in a prison cell. He sat on his bed, and reflected on his life, lost in ancient memories.

* * *

Garrus Vakarian slowly paced back in forth. He longed for the quiet of the Normandy main battery, but the Normandy was gone, along with Shepard. Burned out in one final blaze of glory. Garrus smiled sadly. The Commander always did enjoy showing off, and nothing had ever gotten more press coverage, at least, nothing as far as he could recall, than the explosion of the Normandy barreling into the main engine of Harbinger. Assuming, of course, it even really was an engine. Just because they looked like ships didn't mean they were. A heart would probably be nearer to reality.

In truth, Garrus was lost. He had been in this position once before, about a year ago, after the destruction of Sovereign. Then, he simply went out to seek his vigilante justice against gangs and other crime organizations on Omega. But he couldn't bring himself to do that again, not after Sidonis's betrayal. Sidonis. Garrus almost never second guessed himself, never felt regret, but Sidonis was haunting him. He could no longer content himself by saying that he was only seeking redemption for his fallen comrades. He had murdered the man, a simple revenge killing. He had seen it many times, even back when he was still working with C-Sec on the Citadel, so many years ago.

Garrus pounded his head into his fists. God, he needed to stop being so damn sentimental. He walked into a bathroom nearby. Dirt and grime covered the floor, but the entire Citadel was falling apart. An army of janitors and maintenance workers couldn't do the work one keeper had done. Not to mention all the system calibrations that had fallen by the wayside. Entire sections of the Citadel had been completely sealed closed, the air supply shut off. Most of the residents within had escaped before the permanent seals locked in place, but a few remained confined to their choking grave, waiting helplessly as they felt their lungs struggle to take in oxygen that no longer existed. The lakes in the Presidium were draining, the artificial ecosystems slowly dying. It was amazing how the single greatest threat to all organic existence was the very same that allowed the preservation of arguably the most beautiful and imposing sight ever seen across the traverse.

Garrus turned on the faucet, splashing ice cold water on his face, trying to get rid of the headache he had been developing since that morning. He looked at the mirror, wiping away a month's worse of grime to see his reflection. His own face stared back, a mammoth scar stretching from under his eye down to his right mandible. It was certainly an imposing feature, he thought dryly. He had noticed that he ended arguments much more quickly ever since that day where he took a gunship blast square to the jaw. It was a good thing Shepard had been there to pull his ass out of the fire. He would never be there again. Garrus angrily punched the mirror, the glass shattering, forming a picturesque mosaic against the filthy floor of the room, the dim light from overheard refracting across the room in rainbows that illuminated the dreary, long neglected walls.

He stormed angrily out of the bathroom, clenching his fist which was slowly beginning to swell from the contact. What could he do? He was lost.

* * *

The days blended together like ripples on a calm lake. She had never sought out seclusion before; but now, she didn't think she could face anyone, not the sympathetic voices or placating words. Especially not her own people, faces without any known expression, hidden behind masks.

How could Shepard have thrown her away like that? She knew that he knew she would have stayed by his side until the very end. Instead, he had left her on this small, desolate colony; behind, alone. Tali had never loved anyone before, and she didn't think she ever could again.

At first she had cried herself to sleep at night, the pain fresh in her mind. But then she detached, isolated herself from the world. She wanted solitude for her thoughts, didn't want to share the all-encompassing pain. It was all Shepard had left for her.

* * *

Jacob Taylor laid his datapad on the table in his quarters. One of the perks of working with Cerberus was the living conditions. He had served in the cramped barracks of the Alliance military, sharing a room, sometimes with five different men. When one died, his spot in the room was quickly filled by someone else, a nameless face. Every soldier in the Alliance military was expendable. There seemed to be an endless flood of young recruits eager to further humanity's status as a galactic power by having their asses blasted off in the middle of a battle with the geth, or Batarian pirates, or whatever crap the bigwigs of the military decided to send them. Opinions didn't matter to superior officers; everyone was merely a statistic, a name in a book of records. It was like the Industrial revolution back on Earth over 400 years ago. Centuries pass, and we're still the exact same cutthroat society we were back then. So much for social evolution, he thought.

Cerberus was different. Jacob had a name, he had a face. His input was considered, at least, if not always acted upon. That was the benefit of working in a private organization. Numbers were small, and everybody mattered. Jacob didn't always agree on their methods, of course, which ranged from bribery to instances of full blown terrorism. But still, he was never asked to be the one to put a gun against someone's head and pull the trigger in the name of humanity. He just shot at people who shot back at him. Wild horses couldn't drag him back to the alliance.

Cerberus. The Alliance. Shepard had also worked extensively with the two. He had understood what Jacob did, although with an admittedly different conclusion. Shepard had, essentially, spit in the face of the Illusive Man and walked away. Jacob was amazed the Illusive Man hadn't even attempted to kill Shepard before he went and blew himself up. But the Illusive Man wasn't stupid. He knew about the reapers, that Shepard was the only one who even had the slightest chance at stopping the genocide of every intelligent species in existence. The fact that Shepard died in the process was just an added bonus.

Jacob himself regretted Shepard's early demise, but he didn't let it eat away at him. Shepard was a friend and a comrade. He had plenty of friends and comrades slaughtered on Eden Prime, and countless other times before and since. You didn't make it on the front line by losing it over someone else's death.

Suddenly, there was a knock at his door. Jacob walked over, wondering who could possibly be interested in speaking to him. He was just a jarhead, the guy who pulled the trigger and didn't ask why.

The door opened to reveal a Turian, one Jacob didn't recognize. He was about to ask what the hell the alien was doing knocking at his door so early in the morning when he noticed the alien's hand reaching for a pistol at his side.

Cursing, Jacob sprinted back into the room. Crouching down to make as little a target as possible, he fumbled for the pistol stored in a drawer behind his bed. Just as his fingers closed around the familiar grip, a shot rang out, and Jacob's hand released its hold on the small firearm. He slumped to the floor, his blood pouring onto the wooden surface around him and his breathing shuddered, finally coming to a stop. His eyes glazed over, and Jacob Taylor was dead.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Old Friends

Tali walked down the abandoned walkways of one of the ships that used to belong to the Migrant Fleet. Its metallic corridors echoed, the lights that used to shine brightly overhead now permanently black. Shadows danced along the sterile white walls, flickering in the light that shone in through the airlock she had left ajar. Breaking through the meager security system had been unusually system, even for her. Then again, the lock was there mainly for appearances.

Like most of the other ships that had once made up the great Migrant Fleet, it had been scrapped for parts and left to become lost in the undergrowth. The generators were gone, the engines long ripped from the walls. Even the ship-wide comm system had been salvaged, renovated to fit the needs of the new colony. The peace with the geth, tentative and strained as it was, did have some upsides.

Before, Tali would have been at the center of the new colony, doing whatever she could to assist in new establishments. But that was before. No one here had been through what she had. Her parents were both dead. She had no close family, and the one man she had loved for two years, heart longing, had finally shown he felt the same. Now he was gone as well.

Tali sat down, resting her head against the wall, slowly drifting off into the warm embrace of sleep, the one place where she could find comforted. People didn't die in dreams, at least not permanently.

She jolted awake. Darkness had consumed the abandoned vessel. She could not see five feet in front of her mask, and yet she had the strangest feeling she was being watched, followed, studied by an unseen presence in the night. In the past couple of months, she had become accustomed to darkness, often eagerly awaiting its arrival. This time was different. The night had hidden her before, but now she felt laid bare, exposed.

At that moment, there was a brief flash from her omnitool, and in the sudden light, she swore she had seen a shadow slink along the wall and out of sight.

_It's okay_, she thought to herself. _You imagined it. _Tali wished she could believe it. Suddenly, something in the atmosphere changed. Invisible shadows closed in around her, rooting her to the spot. _Run!, _she thought, and suddenly, almost unconsciously, she began to sprint toward the exit, only the faint glow of twinkling stars guiding her path.

Once a reasonable distance from the desolate ship, she slowed, pausing to gulp in mouthfuls of air. She did not hear the sound of approaching footsteps.

The small colony was asleep. No one wandered the streets at night here. There had been a small human colony set up on the equator of the jungle world, but they had vanished without a trace. An investigation had been sent into the matter, but there was no evidence as to what had happened except for the bloodstains that had been permanently dried into the empty, ghostly walls. But planets that were available for habitation were extraordinarily rare, especially with the discrimination the Quarians faced in every venture. They were the dirt beneath the feet of the _real _galactic citizens; the animals that they were all forced to put up with.

When she arrived at her small shanty on the outskirts of the ramshackle town, she stopped, looking around, taking in the village in the comfort and solitude, the stars her only company. No shadows passing across the walls, or unseen eyes to share it with. She thought about how precarious everything looked, as if it would collapse into rubble, a memory, with the smallest breeze. She knew better of course, the small structures supported by beams scavenged from the now flightless aircraft that lay scattered and dormant just outside the outskirts of the city. 300 years pressed shoulder to shoulder on the overpopulated star-ships, all their possessions able to fit in a small rucksack. All the materials were used, waste simply wasn't an option. Nobody here could afford to pay their small savings to make their home aesthetically pleasing, not if they wanted to feed their family. Not that anyone would notice, of course. All the Quarians were in the same boat, and outsiders would have no intention of landing in these slums. The other species preferred to simply ignore them, grind them into the ground with their heels without a second thought.

Tali stepped inside the cottage. She thought sadly about the house her father had promised her, on the homeworld. Looking around the forlorn shack, crudely built in a large clearing in a God forsaken jungle. There were no assurances that this colony would even survive. They all knew the stories about the human colony. It wasn't as if there were many options, though. Finding decent real estate was a difficult business.

The hut was composed of a single room. A small bedspring, ripped from the floor of the Neema, supported a lumpy, dirty mattress. The walls stood bare, plain metal plates, with a thin layer of filth plastered over it. Underneath this sullied visage, the faint sheen that it used to have could still be seen, just barely.

She had volunteered to colonize this world, been on the first ship to touch down. The prices here were cheap. Nobody wanted to live on the planet where the only previous attempt at settlement was a massacre, the stains in the collapsing walls that now littered the ground, being swallowed by the undergrowth, the only testament to the doomed families' existence. Tali didn't care about that. She didn't seek death, but if the inevitable came to pass early, she wouldn't run away from it. Better her to fill a spot on a likely damned colony than someone who actually hadn't wasted their opportunity to become someone in society.

Lost in thought, her omnitool flashed briefly, once more, momentarily brightening the forlorn cabin before sending it back into its permanent night. She didn't turn the lights on. Everything she did in here she did on her omnitool, and that was lighted. It wasn't like she had any possessions to her name anyway; the bed, her environmental suit, some food tubes, and some medication. And she spent almost all her time shut up in that derelict spacecraft anyway. She doubted if more than a handful of the colonists even knew she was here. She didn't think they would enjoy discovering that Tali'Zorah vas Normandy nar Rayya, savior of the galaxy multiple times over, wasted her life trying to shut out the world, to be alone with her pain. Nobody else should have to be burdened with the weight she was caring in her heart.

She read the omnitool message:

_To: Tali'Zorah _

_ Someone is killing off Shepard's old team, one by one. Anyone who served with him. They're going to get to us. I can't say any more here, not on an open channel. Just be ready for an attack at any time, and expect to see me soon. Yes, I know where you are. Stay safe Tali. They've already gotten rid of Jacob, Jack, Zaeed, and a Miss Williams, maybe even more. It can't be a coincidence. Stay safe._

_-X_

Tali looked up, her jaw dropping open, the movement hidden behind her mask. She didn't see any difference in her isolating herself further. Stuck behind the damn suits, nobody could really know someone, anyway. Except, well, best not to think about it again. She just needed to whether the storm. That is, if she survived long enough. Who was hunting them? Why? Was Cerberus involved? Who was X? If X could find her, it shouldn't be too hard for the killers to, either? What if X was the killer? Was she who was watching her in the ship?

These questions flew through her mind, one after another. She couldn't form a coherent thought. The world spun around her, and without realizing how she had gotten there, she found herself sitting on the edge of her mattress, head rested in her hands. For the first time since her arrival, Tali rose and locked the door. It seemed so inconsequential. If anyone had any real intention of breaking in, the lock wouldn't keep them out, just like on that ship in the woods. She lay down in her bed, nestling her pistol beside her. She was glad she had kept the small gun. It wouldn't do much in a firefight, but she felt prepared, as if she still maintained some control. She closed her eyes, but was unable to drift off into the soft pillow, to once again dream of the better days that were gone beyond reach.

The door was going to break down any moment. People would come in, their faces black, hidden from her vision, as they ripped her apart with gunfire, off to join Jacob and Ashley and the rest. She wished she had access to a ship, but the colony only had two. Both were controlled by former ship captains. They were given status as town founders and governors so as not to disrupt the balance of society too much, at least not as much. And it was another chance for the Admiralty board to demonstrate their authority, send a message.

Her newly introverted lifestyle had at least solidified the point in their minds she wasn't cut out for leadership. It was just as well, she didn't want to become involved with all that bureaucratic crap. Politicians were all the same, stubborn fools, in it for themselves. The one on the board she had trusted, her Aunt Shala'Raan had stepped down prior to the geth peace. She did not want to be associated with the decision either way, caught in the middle of a political firestorm.

She opened her eyes, and sat built upright. Damn it, she had fallen asleep! By all rights, she should have been dead by now. That person in the ship knew where she was, he could have walked right in while she was defenseless, riddled her with bullet holes.

She silently stood up, natural defenses putting her on edge, even though it was clear she was alone in her room. She paced back and forth, wondering what to do. Her gaze fell on the small pistol sitting on her mattress for the hundredth time. Finally, steeling herself, she picked up the tiny firearm, and cautiously opened the door. No use waiting around for someone to come and kill her. It was time to retake control of her life.

Poking her head around the door, she looked back and forth, but there was no one in sight. She stepped out of the doorway, keeping as low to the ground as possible, and sprinted for the undergrowth at the edge of the woods. The idea to live close to the trees was seeming like a better choice every day. Once in the safety of the trees, tucked between two behemoths that stretched towards the sky, conversing with the planets that orbited around her head. That she had once drifted among, not stuck helpless in the woods, with no friends, expecting death at any moment from an unseen foe.

She slowly gathered her resolve once again, and walked the path she had treaded many times before; the undergrowth already began to conform to the shape of her light step. Tali stepped slowly forward, barely making a sound, senses on overdrive. Adrenaline coursed through her bloodstream. The world seemed to move in slow motion around her. Finally, after what seemed like ages, the ship, moss growing over the hull and into the cabin, paint faded, came into view. She had used to see the ship as a refuge, solitude from the insane world around her. The sight seemed much more sinister now. Shadows stretched up and down the deserted halls. Every shadow could house something sinister, phantoms, or maybe worse. She stopped, resolve beginning to weaken.

She began to panic, but slowly brought it under control once again. If she was going to die, better here, fighting, than asleep without a chance to fight back. One way or another something was going to happen. She was going to force their hand.

Inside the craft, the world seemed to silence. The buzzing off insects faded into the background. The sound of water dripping floated down the hall, echoing as it approached. She passed through the long broken decontamination door, lifting it up as the rusted gears groaned from the movement. It felt like she was walking into the ship for the first time. She had never stopped to look around before. The place seemed sad, forlorn. The ship, once bright and buzzing with activity sat, forgotten, swallowed by the forest. It would never again make the thrilling venture through the mass relays, jumping among the stars. The ship was dead.

Tali walked deeper into the belly of the ship, listening for any noise that broke from the incessant dripping as rivulets of water sped down the walls, splashing onto the dusty floor.

She switched on the light of her omnitool as she slowly advanced further into the dark twisting tunnels. Suddenly, just like the previous night, a bright flash from her omnitool illuminated the darkness, chased away the shadows. Then it dimmed again, returning to the flashlight she was using it as. The shadows crept back down again. Looking around quickly to satisfy that no one was about to shoot her, she read the message.

_Don't Shoot._

She looked up quickly, jumping as she saw a ghostly black figure approach down the tunnel, coming ever close. But no shots were being fired, and the figures arms were at its sides. Tali raised her pistol, focused on the thing's chest, and paused. Thinking back to the message, she was just able to keep herself from pulling the trigger, from sending the figure crashing to the floor. Every nerve in body tensed, her mind screaming to shoot. Her finger tensed, about to give into the impulse, when she noticed something looked familiar about the walk, the calm easy gait, poised and confident. It couldn't be, she hadn't seen her in a year, not since Shepard had crossed the Illusive Man and abandoned Cerberus. But it was, without a doubt. Finally, Miranda stepped into the faint beam of light that emanated from Tali's omnitool.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Tali asked, not lowering the pistol.

"I was looking for you. I thought that considering people are trying to kill us, we could put aside our differences, and try to kill the people who are after us. And I would greatly appreciate it if you would at least lower your gun a bit. I don't have any weapons out, and if I did try to pull one out, I guarantee you would shoot me before I even began to aim."

"Why should I help you? I never worked for Cerberus, they killed my people. I worked for Shepard. So unless you can bring him back from the dead…"

"Well, I did work on the first Lazarus project, I know the basics. And I believe we know a good doctor, who I believe is also still with us."

"How do I know Cerberus isn't killing people who betrayed them? What if you're here to kill me while my guard is down?"

"Jacob's dead, too. He was Cerberus. Cerberus wouldn't have any reason to kill their own people, their numbers are dwindling as it is."

"The only proof I've seen of Jacob's death was your damn message last night. Prove you're being straight with maybe, and maybe I'll reconsider," she responded. Tali secretly hoped Miranda was telling her the truth. If they could make a second Lazarus project, bring Shepard back once more…

"You know I can't prove anything. You're going to have to trust me on this, Tali. I want Shepard back as much as you do. The Illusive Man disagreed. I'm not working with Cerberus anymore. If anything, I'm in more danger than you are! I just turned my back on one of the most powerful people in the damn galaxy!"

"Well, let's just pretend that you aren't lying, for purposes of this second Lazarus experiment. You have no Cerberus funds to back you up. I don't know what the exact price bill was on the first, but I'm pretty sure it wasn't cheap. And me being a Quarian, with all the crap yours and every other species give us, we don't exactly get the opportunity to make a lot of money. So unless bringing a dead man back to life costs under 500 credits, or you happen to be a billionaire, I can't help you."

"I don't need you for money, Tali. I saw you when we were trying to stop the collectors. No one I've ever seen can handle tech like you, and with all the electronics we're going to be putting in him, you'd be an invaluable asset. And I can't pay off the bill either, but I bet know someone who can."

"And who is this hypothetical philanthropist who'll throw away billions of dollars for someone he doesn't even know to make us happy?"

"Well he, or more correctly, them, aren't exactly going to be willingly giving us their money. I believe we are also acquainted with someone who has some experience dealing with the Eclipse. All the shipments they pass around have got to be worth something. Intercept a transport group here and there, I figure we can get some pretty decent funds for our experiment."

"How do you expect us to rob a national crime organization and avoid any retribution?"

"I believe Garrus Vakarian has accomplished that very task. I think it's time to get back in contact with him."

"No retribution? I believe his entire team was killed."

"They were careless. They stayed on Omega. The criminal underworld. It was bound to bite them in the ass eventually."

"But I guess it all comes back to the question, how can I trust you? You've been the Illusive Man's lap dog for years. Cerberus has killed my people. If you leave, I'll probably end up dead," said Tali. She pulled out her pistol once more, the barrel inches away from Miranda's forehead. "Convince me you aren't my enemy."

Speaking quickly, Miranda tried to prove to the woman who sat across from her of her true intentions. This wasn't the Tali who she had worked with for months. She had been pushed to the edge, over the edge. "Tali, I can't prove anything to you! I know you have every right to hat Cerberus, to hate me. But you have to believe me, I'm not the same person I was. I can't believe in their ideals any more! And if you don't help me, we won't have a chance to bring Shepard back! I'm not going to sit back and let whoever's doing this kill me."

Tali knew she was right, she couldn't prove anything to her. She wanted to believe it. She had loved Shepard, with every ounce of her being. If they could bring him back…Miranda's story was as likely a trap as a promise of a future once more, and yet she couldn't pass it up. Slowly she lowered her pistol once more. She thought about Shepard, all he had said, all he had meant to her. As a single tear passed down her cheek, she was for once grateful for the environmental suits that hid her from this woman.

After an excruciating silence, she finally spoke again. "Fine. I'll try to help you. But I still can't trust you. Please understand that I'm going to be keeping my gun with me."

Miranda says, almost sadly, "I understand. Hate me if you must, I hate myself sometimes. But I need to have him back."

With that, they both stood up and walked out of the bowels of the desolate ship, their exit once again carefully watched and studied.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Negotiations

Captain Anderson stood against the rail, looking down at the draining lake in the Presidium. The water was a murky brown. Everything about this place was depressing the hell out of him. A news terminal in the back was broadcasting,

_"There was another human attacked in the lower Wards today. A human representative who asked not to be named was attacked by a soldier in the Turian military. The Turian has been apprehended and is facing a number of charges from assault to attempted murder. _

_ The diplomat does not appear to be severely injured, and will return to work after a couple of days, enough time for the doctors to make sure he has not suffered more serious injuries._

_ This is the sixth attack this week, two of which have been fatal. This is an alarming trend that keeps getting worse with each passing week. Citadel Security has been cracking down harshly on these attacks, but they only seem to be inciting anger against humanity. These feelings of hatred are only being encouraged by the vast amounts of anti-human propaganda that is rapidly making its way around the Wards and the Presidium. _

_ Many also seem to associate the rapid degeneration of the Citadel with humanity's seizure of council power._

Anderson finally shut off the report. He didn't know what he could do about the situation. All the other politicians were spreading bull about the non-existence of the reapers, including the other species. And people were much more inclined to listen to their own leaders, as opposed to one contrary view made by a politician who by rights shouldn't even be given a voice. Anderson knew he was military, he knew it, and everybody else knew it. They also knew that he didn't belong there, the stress probably got to him. The general consensus was that Anderson was kept around as more of a liability than someone who actually mattered.

In the eyes of the public, reapers had just been a myth, a story to scare their children into behaving. "You better behave or the reapers are going to come and take you away."

It was a disgrace. Shepard had died to save the asses of every single species out there, and in return it was said that he died due to an engine failure on the Normandy. And now people were dying. Anderson didn't care what Udina said, he was the damn councilor. And it was time to reinstate the other species.

Anderson sat around the small conference table with the other two human councilors, Goodwin and Kuznetsov. The two men were arguing, and it seemed to be going nowhere. Kuznetsov and Anderson had already decided to reinstate aliens into the council, but that meant limiting humans on the council to one. Goodwin had been spouting his xenophobic bias throughout the entire meeting. Anderson had been nursing a headache all day, and sitting in the boiling hot room, it had been worsening. He took several pills to try to ease the pain, but they did nothing.

As Goodwin opened his mouth to begin another tirade, Anderson interjected. "For God's sake, Goodwin, shut up, before I put a bullet through your head. This political thing really isn't for me, and I miss firing my gun. Don't push me."

Thomas Goodwin looked at the Captain, stymied only momentarily. Before he could begin to rant again, Kuznetsov cut in, speaking in a thick Eastern European accent. "Captain Anderson and I are not going to change our minds, Thomas," stated the burly Russian, intentionally referring to the pudgy American man by his first name, showing his utter contempt for the man through his disregard of proper respect.

Anderson didn't speak for the remainder of the meeting; negotiation, coercion, reasoning, nothing made an impression. He once again began to think of the days when he was a captain. Udina was the one who understood politics. Anderson preferred to solve things with a well placed bullet. Still, he hadn't been trusted with anything of vital importance in the field since the disaster on Camala.

He also regretted almost every decision he had made since becoming a councilor. He had decided to appoint to more humans to the council, at the urging of Udina, likely a plea so he would not be left out of power. Anderson's relationship with the ambassador was already strained, however, even more so since he had knocked the man unconscious in his own office three years ago. He didn't like putting too much power into the man's hands. Still, sharing power did seem like it would lift some of the pressure of Anderson's shoulders, allow him to share his duty. So he had appointed the Russian, Vladimir Kuznetsov, a personal friend whom Anderson had known growing up, from a small military academy prior to his graduation from the N7 program on Arcturus Station.

The other, Thomas Goodwin, had not Anderson preceding his appointment as the other councilor. However, both had heard of the other. Anderson's was a household name, one of the first N7 marines, and later the original human councilor. The other had been a conservative politician of some repute, both on Earth before the unearthing of the Prothean tech on Mars and the First Contact War, and later as an ambassador who pushing for human supremacy in galactic politics. Anderson disagreed with scores of the man's ideals, but he figured that with both his and Kuznetsov's pro-equality standards, they could subdue the man, while still keeping someone around who knew his way around the political landscape.

If only the situation had turned out that ideally. Anderson and Kuznetsov were able to over-rule Goodwin's contrary vote on almost all occasions, but only after hours of mind-numbing dispute. Anderson had never used to think of himself as somebody who was prone to migraines. His time collaborating with politicians was beginning to make him reform his views on that subject.

Anderson did not know how long the meeting had lasted. His thoughts were interrupted as someone called his name. He sighed deeply, and looked around, taking in the room once again. Goodwin had already made his exit, and Kuznetsov stood, hand on the doorknob, trying to attract the attention of the comatose Captain.

"David, meeting's over. You can put away your boredom until we resume tomorrow," he said in his thick accent.

"God, you mean we didn't figure anything out?" asked Anderson.

"It's difficult to come to a consensus when a third of the group is catatonically staring off into space."

"Well then, why don't you ever snap me out of it?" questioned Anderson, lightheartedly.

"There are two reasons. First, both Goodwin and I have attempted that, and you will indefinitely drift off again. It isn't worth wasting our breaths, we've come to learn. And secondly, you seem so much more peaceful when you daydream. I don't think you're very well cut out for this bureaucratic work," joked Vladimir.

Anderson sighed, saying, "I'm finding myself agreeing with you there, more and more with each passing day. God, I'm not in the state of mind to negotiate any more, not tomorrow at least."

"Well, you never do much of the talking anyway. And who knows? Maybe Mr. Goodwin won't be able to show tomorrow." The Russian man smiled, and exited the room.

"Don't get my hopes up," muttered Anderson under his breath as the door closed once again.

The following morning arrived much too soon. Anderson rolled out of his bed and groggily walked into the bathroom, slipping two painkillers into his pocket from the medicine cabinet. Best to come prepared.

Anderson slouched over to his news terminal. Might as well be familiar with the latest Citadel disaster. He didn't have to wait long.

The computerized voice read off the story its usual emotionless monotone.

_In one of the most shocking anti-human protests yet, a gang of Batarians led by one claiming he was a prophet, rushed the council member Thomas Goodwin as he left his apartment early this morning. By the time C-sec arrived at the scene, Goodwin had been beaten to death. Three more humans were also attacked, two of whom are being treated for minor injuries. The third is currently in critical condition._

_ The Batarian leader proceeded to charge at the security forces, where he was finally stopped and killed. After his death, the remaining group members quickly ceased their attack, and were apprehended._

Anderson stood stock still, unable to speak. A million thoughts rushed through his head, but were interrupted by the familiar beep of a message arriving at his private terminal.

He quickly strode over, and saw the message box requesting a private video feed request from Vladimir Kuznetsov. He accepted, and saw the figure of the burly Russian pop-up on the terminal screen. His lighthearted demeanor from after yesterday's meeting was gone, replaced by a somber, brooding expression, his small black eyes seeming to stare right through Anderson. They contemplated each other in silence for a few moments before Anderson said exhaustedly, "I take it you heard the news."

"I did," replied the other man. "What the hell are we going to do know? They're attacking councilors. I don't know about you, but I'm not leaving my apartment unless I get a Carnifex, at least."

"C-Sec could get you a personal escort, I'm sure," Anderson suggested.

"Yes, I'm sure I could, but I like to take care of myself. And I was thinking, as far as it goes, we have no more opposition to Alien council members, we can easily push this through, now."

Anderson looked at the man hard, replying, "Yes, you're right, but I'd prefer not to think of Thomas Goodwin's death as an opportunity to initiate our policies."

"Yes, that's true, but you have to face the fact that he's gone, and we can't simply postpone this decision indefinitely. It's only us now, David."

"I know, I know. I hate politics. I should be out there working in the field again. I tell you, Vladimir, some days I really miss the Normandy. I think once this is over, I'm going to leave the political landscape behind. Maybe find a nice beach house back in Britain," joked Anderson. Neither of the two men smiled.

Anderson sighed. There was another short silence, both of them contemplating the situation. As much as he hated to admit it, even to himself, Anderson had to confess that Goodwin's death would make things easier for him in the long run. God, he was becoming just as cutthroat as them. He took the painkillers out of his pocket and swallowed, the headache he had had since yesterday flaring up even worse. Rubbing his temples, Anderson noticed Kuznetsov had begun speaking again.

"So it's pretty much guaranteed now that the council's going to be multi-racial again. The question now is, what species are going to be members?"

"We can't keep the old species out. Can you imagine what would happen if we refused the Asari, or the Salarians, or Turians. The question is, should we expand on that?"

"And what species would we add, David? Batarians? They don't even admit to being under the Council's authority. What happens if we reward that? And the Quarians? Everyone takes them as a blight on the galaxy. Hell, they created the geth and they've been destroying us ever since. We can't let that happen."

He was about to continue, but Anderson cut him off. "I've heard all these reasons before, Vladimir. You're sounding more and more like Thomas. I don't care what they've done in the past. I've been silenced before, many times. These species have been being silenced for hundreds of years. Every species should be represented."

"Do you know what that would do politically? Think about it, David. Do you think the Krogan are ready for a Council seat? They'd rather shoot the other members than debate with them."

"Vladimir, I don't care about that," said Anderson, becoming exasperated. "I've seen too much subjugation in the galaxy. It's like back on Earth. Every place is the same, racism, cultural superiority, they're just as rampant here. I don't care if you can't see the bigger picture here, Sir. I am going to send messages to important members of each species in the galaxy, every one, and open up negotiations."

"Negotiations? And here I was thinking you loathed politics," stated Kuznetsov dryly. "Do what you will, but know that for once, I'm not with you. You're on your own here, David."

The connection cut out, leaving David Anderson once again alone. He sat in silence, before once again walking over to his private terminal. He opened a window, and set a request for a live feed with the former Asari councilor.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: I have finally finished planning out the full story, and there's still a ton left to go, but I'm always open to suggestions to improve it. Please review, constructive criticism welcome.**

Chapter 4

Reaching the Graveyard

Tali sat silently, her back against the wall of the shuttle. Miranda sat across from her. She no longer wore the white Cerberus uniform, so perfectly designed to just slightly distract anyone, or rather men, she dealt with. Keep their eyes off the fine print in business deals. She had the feeling that she wouldn't be making any deals with anybody for awhile. Her clothing now consisted of simple black attire, lightweight for movement. It lacked any symbols of affiliation with any organizations. She hadn't thought of it when she purchased it at a small shop on Illium, but she realized the coloring could prove more of an asset than she would originally have assumed.

Tali was deep in thought. So much had happened in the past couple of hours. She was still unsure whether she could trust The Illusive Man's lapdog, or former lapdog as she claimed. Still, Tali knew she couldn't have pulled the trigger back in the derelict spacecraft, not if there was any hope at bringing Shepard back. Shepard. He had meant so much to her. No, she corrected herself, he still did. They might still be able to bring him back. As her thoughts turned to the Lazarus project, she noticed some faults in the planning. Voicing her concerns, she broke the uneasy silence that hung heavy in the air.

"I've been thinking, about this second Lazarus Project, and I seem to remember the first one took almost two years to complete. How will we acquire the sorts of funds necessary to maintain a facility for that time? Won't it cost more when we have to run our own facility? That is, if you haven't been double-dealing this whole time and are still working with the Illusive Man. You shouldn't have a problem getting your room then. You could kill me pretty easily in flight, right now, and then have Shepard all to yourself. I know you wanted it before."

Miranda sighed. She guessed it was her fault for being the second in command at Cerberus for so long, but it was going to take an impossibly long time for that image of her to be abandoned, nonetheless. She noticed the change in the woman who sat across from her. Tali'Zorah, once so resolute and reliable, as well as outgoing, who eventually reached out to even Jacob, a Cerberus operative. She knew what Cerberus had done to the flotilla. She had rationalized it as business, but now she forced herself to call it what it was- murder. It was amazing what she had been blind to when she worked for those killers.

"How do we pay for the facility? First of all, it shouldn't take even close to two years this time around. Almost the full time of the last project was spent developing the tech. We don't need to complete create anything new this time, just replicate the old. We can do this without the constant failure and endless tests we had to run last time around."

As she said this, Miranda leaned to her left, towards the small wooden table that attached into the wall at the end of the shuttle. Tali watched as she rapped sharply on the wood a couple times. She wondered if the motion held any significance.

After the strange gesture, Miranda began to speak again. "So, if the plans are already formulated, we just need to reconstruct the tech plans."

"But doesn't the Illusive Man have the plans? Aren't we going to have to at least try to replicate them from memory?" interrupted Tali.

"I've learned to never completely trust anyone except myself. Yes, the Illusive Man kept the plans. However, I scanned the blueprints and downloaded the data to a storage drive on my omnitool. I actually thought about deleting it after the Collectors a year ago. Glad I decided to keep it. I like being prepared for whatever happens.

"All I needed was someone who was capable of building the tech quickly. You're one of the most skilled engineers I've ever seen, assuming you haven't lost your genius since you've been off pouting in that junkyard ship."

Tali's anger flared at that statement. She had never wanted to hurt anyone more than she did at that moment. Her three fingers curled into a first at her side. She spoke, deceptively calm, the menace buried deep within the strained calm tone. "You think I was pouting? The man I loved, and who felt the same in return, is dead! Do you know what it means to even be accepted by a different race to our people? Have you ever felt the looks, the angry glares? Have anyone in your family had to sell themselves into slavery to pay off the debts that have been placed on you by every other species in existence? Shepard did more for me than even any of my people, and we probably won't be able to bring him back. You've never had anyone show you how good life could be, only to have it ripped away again after just a short year. Nothing will ever be the same again, not for me. Do not insult me, insult him by saying I'm pouting, like a child who got its toy taken away. You can never understand what I've been through, you, I believe the human term is bitch."

Tali leaned back, silent once again. Miranda sat, dumbfounded. The woman who sat across from her was the last person she would ever have expected to react like that. She had taken the young woman's reserved demeanor for granted, expected the helmet to hold back all her emotions. Miranda had always told herself that she had worked for Cerberus to improve humanity's role in the galaxy. It kept her blind from the measures they took to achieve that, kept down her sense of revulsion at all the atrocities committed in the name of humanity. Now she saw what it had done. She had told herself she was through with the monstrosities, the racism, and yet hear she was, assuming aliens had the emotional range of a VI. It hadn't mattered what she had said, it wouldn't care. It wasn't human. No matter how many times she sat there telling herself she hadn't meant to cause offense, the understanding that that statement meant she hadn't expected the Quarian, no, Tali, she forced herself to think, wouldn't be insulted by anything she said, not that she had attempted to be fair or honest.

Still, she couldn't show any weakness, she had to always seem strong, in control. Oh God, even now, despite all she told herself to the contrary, she hadn't changed at all. She tried to rationalize it, told herself she didn't show any weakness to any humans either. Well, at least not since Shepard, when she had opened herself up to him. She was so used to the lust of the fools she had been forced to work with, that she took the head-turnings, the not-so-subtle eye wonderings when she spoke with them, that she took it for granted all the men would be like that. She had guessed wrong. All the genetic engineering in the world hadn't prepared her for his rejection, the one man she had actually cared about, prayed that he felt the same. He had quickly ended those prayers, and no matter how gently he had let her down, the pain she had felt afterwards was no less diminished. Then when she discovered he'd rejected her for that Quarian girl down in engineering, it was almost more than she could take. She was perfect, or at least she had thought it at the time, and he had preferred someone he had never even seen before. He would rather have had a mask.

Then after his death, she told herself she had put all those feelings behind her, that she had accepted that even if by some miracle they did bring him back a second time, she would never be his. She had started forming plans for the resurrection, after she had left Cerberus behind, but everything seemed hopeless without their support, their backing. Failures, hopeless musings lay on crumpled paper that had scattered the dingy apartment she had found. That was when she first heard of the deaths. Subject Zero's had come first. It hadn't come as any real surprise; with a personality like that it had only been a matter of time before she pissed off the wrong people, people who actually knew how to handle a lone, insane biotic. Miranda couldn't exactly say she had felt sorry for the crazy freak; maybe she had felt a twinge of sympathy for the young girl Jack had left behind, inside that facility on Pragia. Still, she wasn't the same person she had been back then. When she escaped the facility that one day, something had snapped. Miranda doubted Jack could remember anything from those days beyond the fear. She felt no remorse, however. The experimental complex hadn't been her idea. She was barely into her 20s at the time of the destruction. That was when she was still just a lackey, just another name in a Cerberus file somewhere, yet to make a real impression on anyone important.

Everything about Jack had been utterly predictable, her wish to destroy the facility, her violent rages, detachment from the rest of the crew, her fight with Miranda on the Normandy- Miranda had known it all would happen, it was just a matter of when. Even her death had been almost tediously foreseeable. She had been off by herself on Omega somewhere, probably looking for one of the billions of people in the Universe she claimed had wronged her, when she took a sniper bullet to the head. Dead on impact. The exit wound had been clean, a perfect shot. Her body had been quickly cleared away. Her possessions would have been scavenged by some of the residents of the slums if she had had any possessions to her name. The psychopath traveled light.

Miranda had heard the report, and almost felt satisfied. She had never been one to revel in death, but she wasn't exactly about to shed any tears over Jack's death. And chances were that had either of them had the misfortune of meeting the other after their destruction of the Collector base, they probably would have ended up killing each other, anyway. But however expected the news had been, Miranda remembered the information. The years working for the Illusive Man had taught that anything could be important, every piece of information, however insignificant it may seem, could be used for something.

When she heard of Zaeed's, the surprise had not been too much greater, either. His own employees had tried to put a bullet through his head, for God's sake. The man clearly didn't have too many friends, an especially big problem when your enemies likely numbered in the thousands. It had been another sniper shot, but the man had survived a pistol at point blank range. They probably just scrapped that idea and went with the bigger guns.

Ashley Williams had been a bit more of a surprise. Miranda had never met the woman, but she had heard of her reputation. When she pulled her file, she realized the two of them had a surprising amount in common. Both had paved their own way, made a name for themselves in their respected organizations. Neither of them backed shied away from a fight. Neither of them had really trusted aliens, Miranda had also thought. She immediately tried to repress the thought, to lie to herself, tell herself she wasn't prejudiced, but no matter what she told herself she believed, the thought was there, underlying. But even Williams had claimed she wasn't a racist, every species favored their own. Miranda quickly adopted this philosophy. It helped with her guilt a little bit, but the feelings she was so ashamed of were still there, repressed, buried deeply.

Finally, of course, the two had both worked for Shepard, Williams even rejoining him in the final battle against the reapers. Miranda respected the woman's bravery. It was at that moment she finally made the connection. The deaths, all of them former members of Shepard's crew. Could it be just a simple coincidence?

And then she had heard of Jacob Taylor, gunned down alone in his own apartment. She had known him, known him well. Jacob wasn't the sort of person to cause grudges. And if he was attacked to get at Cerberus, it was a poorly done job, indeed. Jacob was just a soldier, barely more than a merc as far as the organization was concerned. His death wouldn't create too many ripples higher up the chain of command, but Miranda knew. She had known him for years, even had a fling that began one night when they were both drunk in a bar. That had been the only time she had ever drank. Then they had both worked on the Lazarus project, albeit with very different objectives. Jacob was there to do the usual grunt work. Stand still at the entrances with a gun and look tough. Still, Shepard had seen something in that man, had taken them both with him. He had survived a reaper, the Collectors, helped stop the abduction of countless human colonies, only to be brought down by a single assassin with a pistol. What had they wanted with him? It was at that moment when she began to think that she had been right, that Shepard's team was being hunted down.

The silence stretched on, painfully. As the two continued to brood, Miranda realized she hadn't finished explaining herself. As she began to speak, Tali looked up, taking a second to register what she was talking about. Then it dawned her, the timeframe of the experiment.

"Last time over the 23 months the project took, Shepard was in cryo for over 22 of those. There were so many failures. Doing something the first time is always the hardest, and reviving someone who's been dead for two years isn't easy to begin with. Still, with what we need already essentially developed, we just have to build the machinery. And even that could probably be done in smaller scale. Shepard already has some of the parts we need already built in from last time. Unless something goes wrong, we should be able to bring him back in a month, a month and a half tops."

Tali watched as the woman once again knocked on the wooden table. She wondered at the gesture, but didn't question it. She didn't want to have to talk to that whore any more than was absolutely necessary. But her words had nonetheless comforted Tali, no matter how slightly. She wasn't sure what the probability of success was, that information had been ominously kept quiet. She wasn't even sure if she wanted to know. But ever since that night before they passed through the Omega 4 relay a year ago, she told herself she would do anything for him. He had saved her life time and again, and when he had needed her, she hadn't been there for him. He had died twice, but she could have saved him. This could be her chance to rectify those mistakes, to let her live with herself once again.

Tali decided she had to trust Miranda. If she truly had left Cerberus behind, unlikely as that seemed, than at least they could at least attempt to breathe new life into the cold body that floated somewhere in the vastness of space. And if she was betrayed, would she really be any worse of then she already was? She had already managed to completely revise her status as a savior to that of a selfish recluse in Quarian society. People she had often spoken with, considered among her friends had cut off all contact, left her to rot alone. She hadn't minded at the time. Solitude had been all she really wanted. But sitting here, floating through space, new hope reviving her soul, she regretted her silence. Had she really wanted that not a day ago?

Finally having made up her made to trust the black-haired woman before her, she spoke once more, with slightly less malice in her voice, although the bitterness could still be made out. "Shall we tell Garrus about this plan of ours, now?"

Miranda raised her head. Tali finally noticed the circles underneath her eyes, her pale complexion. Still unable to resist provoking the woman she added, "That is, if you don't collapse from exhaustion before you can send a message."

The words seemed to have no effect on Miranda whatsoever. Tali was ashamed to discover that this disappointed her a bit. Keelah, what was she becoming?

Trying to distract herself from the guilt she felt rising up in her, she opened a vid link in her omnitool, and sent a live video request to Garrus. She didn't have to wait long to receive the confirmed message, and then the scarred visage of Garrus Vakarian faded onto the screen. Tali felt a small surge of happiness at the sight of her old friend in spite of herself. "Well, Garrus, I see a month has fixed your pretty face."

"I believe you have an unfair advantage insulting my physique, Tali. It's a pretty safe area for you to go when all I can say in return is that your mask is looking as purple as ever," retorted the Turian. "But I get the feeling there's something more to this conversation than a simple hello."

"How do you know that?" asked Tali, coyly.

"Well, I could give you crap about my wonderful intuition and instincts, which I am certain are a factor in this, but the simple answer is that I see the wall of a ship behind you, and I happen to know that you no longer live aboard the Migrant Fleet, and you're obviously not just putting around for your own amusement."

"Well, in that case, I'll let you talk with Miranda, she's the mastermind behind this foolish plan of ours," Tali said nonchalantly, contradicting the sadness, bitterness, and shock she felt.

"Miranda? Are we having a reunion party? You know I've never been one for dancing," Garrus joked. His mandibles twitched slightly, a forced smile. What was Tali doing working with Cerberus? Something big was going on here.

Tali sent the video file to Miranda's omnitool through a private extranet link, which she received and opened. Neither of the two had been very close when they had worked together on the Normandy Sr-2. Not that they were enemies, but the two had never really had the occasion to speak. When the connection was made, neither was quite sure what to say, and the silence dragged on. There seemed to be a lot of that going around this shuttle, Tali thought.

Finally, Miranda broke the quiet, jumping right into business matters. "Hello, Mr. Vakarian. We, meaning Tali'Zorah and I, have a plan that we need your help with."

"Well, I'm going to have to know a lot more about this plan before I go signing any contracts," Garrus responded, interest piqued.

"We think we may be able to bring Shepard back." Hearing herself say it out loud gave Miranda some hope. She knew it didn't improve their chances of success, but just confirming the fact aloud made it seem more real, not just a crazy dream.

Garrus breathed in sharply. He would have expected something along those lines, if Tali hadn't been with her in the shuttle. Garrus had trouble believing Tali would work with Cerberus for anything, but the more he thought about it, the more sense it began to make. He knew about Shepard and Tali, everyone did. When he died the second time, part of her died with him. Hell, Garrus knew part of him did. He couldn't imagine what she was going through now. Desperation made someone do crazy things, and he knew that better than anyone.

"And why are you telling me this?" he questioned, challenging. "Cerberus never struck me as the type of institute that would go running to aliens to do all the dirty work. Is the Illusive Man losing his touch?"

"I see Tali hasn't told you that I walked out on Cerberus."

"Well then, I guess that means Tali is just as incredulous about this as I am."

"Unfortunately, that is a problem. I guess you'll just have to get over it when we work together once again."

"I have to say, I do like the way you assume I'm going to just throw myself at whatever it is you plan on doing. I get the feeling its something illegal, or at least something I'm not going to like too much."

"I'd say more of the latter. Even if it is illegal as well, I get the feeling the authorities might turn a blind eye to this one. They've never really gotten along to well with the Eclipse."

"Oh God, no, I've had enough adventures with those merc groups to last a lifetime," said Garrus.

"Fine," Miranda responded. It was time to play her trump card. "You should be fine on your own. I'm sure the assassins who've been killing Shepard's people will just leave you alone. After all, you seem to be a very amicable person, Mr. Vakarian. I'm sure they won't be able to bring themselves to kill you. As I understand it, when you've gotten it in your heart to kill someone, you're always open to the possibility forgiveness."

Garrus paused. Killing Shepard's people? Who had already died? He hadn't heard anything, but then again, he wasn't exactly keeping in touch. He would've expected to hear something in the news, but then again, people were killed by pirates and slavers everyday. Most of the people weren't all that famous, Shepard was the only known entity among them. Most probably wouldn't even get a mention, and if they did, it would have been only in passing. "Who's died? I haven't heard anything," he asked, trying to keep his voice level.

"Of course you haven't, these weren't major stories," Miranda said, confirming Garrus's suspicions. "I only knew because I kept a file to search the extranet with the names of Shepard and his crew. Any articles that were written I got. As far as who, they've already got Jacob, Williams, Jack, and Zaeed. Any of us could be next, but I'd say we're safer than you are right now, Garrus.

"Oh, and while we've been having this conversation, I traced your location back to the Citadel," she added. "So if I were you I'd rent a spot down in the wards, stay inside there, and don't open the door till we show up. They got Jacob in his apartment. I know I can't make you do anything. From what I saw at least, you were always kind of a hothead. We should be able to arrive at the Citadel within a day and a half. I'll explain everything in detail when we see you, assuming you haven't already made to many waves down there. I can't say anything else here, there's really no way of knowing if a conversation is being recorded. Please stay safe, Mr. Vakarian. If you get yourself killed in the next day and a half, bringing Adam Shepard back from the dead will be significantly trickier."

"Well, surprisingly, I've actually been able to keep a low profile so far. I might even take your advice on renting an apartment. But if this is being traced, then I can't exactly tell you where I'm staying," Garrus said, truthfully.

"There's more than one way to find where a person is," said Miranda.

"That's exactly what worries me," responded Garrus.

The connection cut off, linking Miranda to a page of past video histories. Absently scrolling down the list, she saw every single one involved business of some sort. She wondered what it was like to have friends. She had spent her entire adult life trying to make a name for herself, that she had stepped on everyone else to get there. Well, it was too late to worry about that now. She had made her decisions, had lived with them for years. It wouldn't help to start doubting herself now.

"Well, you actually got him to see reason. I stopped trying to do that two years ago," Tali joked. She sat there, surprised with herself. She couldn't remember the last time she had made a joke. Maybe she was finally beginning to turn herself around, go back to what she had been, before she became a shell. The full realization of what she had done, what she had wasted, finally hit her. Trying to stave off the feeling guilt, she looked around, trying to find a topic of conversation. It finally occurred to her that they had been traveling the entire distance in this shuttle, never stopping to board an actual star faring vessel.

"Miranda, how have we made this entire journey in this little shuttle? How far are we from the colony? Where's the ship we need to pick us up?"

Miranda smiled slightly to herself. Maybe the Quarian was coming back to herself. Just like with Garrus, she had never had the occasion to have a conversation with Tali, but somehow seeing her so hopeless had saddened even Miranda.

"We're already in a different system," said Miranda, a hint of a smile forming as Tali sat up straighter, leaning forward slightly. Miranda wished she could see the look of surprise and interest that was no doubt upon her face. "Cerberus paid for all my lodgings, my food, clothing. I never really had the opportunity to ever use my reasonably generous paychecks. Of course now that I left them, I no longer had access to their ships, and a decent ship is incredibly expensive, so I pooled my credits and got a top of the line shuttle. I hired several mechanics and engineers to reinforce the hull so it can stand up to the rigors of space travel, as well as expand the engine space so it could be outfitted with a small FTL drive. This is, unless there's another one somewhere that I've yet to learn about, the first space-worthy shuttle." She was unable to hide the small glow of pride in her voice. But what the hell, she deserved it. She wasn't slaving away for the Illusive Man anymore, she could enjoy herself.

Tali sat back impressed as the pilot's voice came over the comm system. The craft was big for a shuttle, and Miranda had outfitted the shuttle to have a separate cockpit. No use having expendable personnel be able to listen on their conversations. Miranda at least trusted Tali to keep her mouth shut about important objectives.

As she listened to the pilot say that they were approaching their destination, Tali began to think how strange it was not hearing Joker's sarcastic voice coming through the speaker. While she was reflecting on these thoughts, she heard Miranda's sharp intake of breath. Snapping out of her reverie, Tali looked out the small window Miranda had uncovered against the wall. As she peered through the small gap in the solid metal walls, Tali could not help but gasp as well. The last time she had seen this place, it had been engulfed with flames while she was jettisoned on an escape pod. Shepard had forced her to leave, before he made a kamikaze run at Harbinger, the final reaper left.

Jagged spires of metal hung suspended, seeming almost painted onto the starry backdrop in a beautifully disturbing portrait. Debris flew through the empty void, as the two ships, the ruins of the Normandy, and the gigantic dead reaper, its hull ripped apart by the explosions that had engulfed its entire being not five weeks ago. It seemed as if this wreckage had been there for eternity, a testament to the power of the Cosmos. Somewhere in the nightmare image, there floated the body of a savior, life no longer flowing through his veins, his pale body floating among his final work of art.

"My God," breathed Miranda. "It's a graveyard."


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: All right, chapter 5 is up and running. Please review it, tell me what I'm doing right, what I'm doing wrong, or anything else you think I should know. Thanks! And enjoy.**

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Chapter 5

Recovery

As the small shuttle finessed its way among the floating shrapnel the two decimated ships had produced in their collision, Miranda silently thanked the foresight that she had gone for a smaller shuttle. As she looked out the porthole once more, she couldn't help but feel a twinge of sadness seeing the once great Normandy Sr-2 mangled and obliterated, only a cold twisted shell of its former glory.

Tali stood at the small wooden table in the corner, looking over the scanners, cameras, radar, anything that could help identify the man floating among the wreckage. She sighed, already losing hope. She hadn't really expected them to succeed, but she had at least expected to see his body one last time, to have the chance to give a proper send off to the man. He deserved so much more than to be forgotten among the disaster he had created to avert a much greater one. She closed her eyes and rested her head against the wall, allowing herself the luxury of letting one tear fall for the Commander, for Shepard. She hoped wherever he was, he had finally found some peace.

As she opened her eyes once more for the dreary task of watching the scanners, the two women continued their desperate search for the needle in the haystack.

Suddenly, the scanner started to beep as it located organic material. Tali waved Miranda over, a completely unnecessary reaction as the woman had already reached her side in two fluid steps. They both stared silently at the anomaly. It seemed so small, so insignificant lost among the towers of twisted metal, could it really be who they were looking for?

Without hesitation Miranda stepped over to the small door that led to the cockpit. Stepping through the small connecting passage, she reached the thick metal door at the other end. She opened it, and found herself in the surprisingly spacious cockpit. The pilot, a heavy-set South African man sat behind the controls, keeping his eye trained on the whirring buttons and gauges. His hands rested lightly on the steering wheel. Over 250 years had passed since its invention, and humanity still had not come up with a better way of manual steering. Normally a VI would handle the course, but in these conditions, Miranda preferred flesh and blood, capable of quick improvisation, to be in charge.

She stepped forward, falling into the leather upholstery of the co-pilot's seat. _The other species may call us quickly changing, but we're still using leather, _thought Miranda. Not wanting to disrupt the pilot as he navigated the minefield of debris, she surreptitiously opened the scanner they had found what might have been Shepard's body on the console in front of the pilot, while he anxiously stared out the window, chunks of shattered metal scraping the shields on the hull. When he was next presented with an opportunity to glance down, he would see the flashing green object hidden among the constant black outline of the machinery. Flight Sergeant Matt Rowe knew what they were looking for. They'd get where they were going soon enough. She walked back into the small hold where Tali was sitting, slumped against the wall. Miranda sat opposite her once again, waiting.

They weren't waiting long. Rowe's voice once again cut through the silence over the intraship comm system. "Organic material has been located on a scanner. Our path will be directed toward it and we will take it in as straight a shot as possible, but with all the debris in this place, out ETA should be about five minutes.

Tali raised her head to glance at Miranda. "Better put on your suit, XO," she said, the faintest hint of a smile in her voice, gently mocking. Miranda, too anxious to perceive the humor, wordlessly stood up and began to slip into her hardsuit. Tali sighed and stood up as well. They didn't even know if that really was Shepard out there, yet somehow she felt that it really was him. She also knew that bringing him on the ship was only the first step, and probably the easiest, but she felt that if they accomplished this one task, the others would all fall into place, like a puzzle.

The five minutes seemed to take both a second and an eternity. Tali looked down at her feet, afraid to look out the small porthole, afraid of what she might see. Miranda had no such reservations, and for only the second occasion, in all the time since they had known each other, Tali heard Miranda breath in sharply, her equivalent of a yelp of shock. Tali finally put her fears aside, and gazed out the small window.

A human body hung suspended in space, limp. Small metal fragments glinted like jewels around him. Even at this distance, almost 100 yards from the fallen warrior, they could still faintly make out the N7 logo that he had displayed so proudly for years. The two ruined ships were locked in their eternal morbid embrace behind him. The artist proudly resting after his greatest achievement. For a moment the two stood transfixed, unable to tear their eyes away from the imposing and grotesque illustration laid out before them. Tali suddenly felt almost reluctant to break the eerie tranquility of the scene, lest she unleash the wrath of some great being, for this could only be the work of gods.

The two locked gazes. "Well, I don't think either of us have space walked before. Let's get this over with," Miranda spoke quietly. Tali was surprised to hear the fear in her voice, see it her eyes. But not a second later it was gone, and Tali was left to wonder if her own misgivings had caused her to see it.

Tali and Miranda wordlessly both stepped forward into the small airlock, the heavy door sealing with a hiss behind them. Miranda stepped over to the wall, pulling out to small packages from within the compartment that now hung open. "I didn't think I'd ever get a chance to use these," she said, so silently Tali wondered if the woman hadn't just been talking to herself. Suddenly Miranda's voice became louder and steadier as she briefed Tali on the proper procedure for performing a space walk. She listened to the carefully rehearsed speech, thinking that it must have come out of a manual. Neither of them had any first hand experience to speak of. Hull breaches in the Flotilla were generally handled by the mechanics, or a small force of specialists. The machinists never had the occasion, nor, admittedly, the desire to step outside their pressurized cabins.

Tali took the small stasis pack Miranda handed her, strapping it around her torso. She new the theory behind the device. It contained a microscopic Element Zero converter that could transform a trace amount of the mineral into concentrated energy that would create a link between the central core that rested directly beneath the hull of the ship. The link was almost like a magnet, except the attraction was formed by the energy conversion in the packs released a continuous string of electrical impulses through space. The impulses were attracted to the central core. The constant electrical string formed an invisible rope, a rope that couldn't be broken or frayed. At least, that was the theory. Tali prayed to the ancestors that the theory would hold up in practice.

Another quiet hissing began as the outer airlock door slowly slid upwards, what little air there was in the depressurized compartment being sucked out into the vacuum of space. The stasis pack held, keeping the two positioned inside the now empty cabin. Sound seemed to have abandoned the small space. Tali could hear her breathing, the quiet sound seemingly amplified by the emptiness that engulfed her. The calm frightened her. It seemed like the quiet one faced in the lair of a sleeping beast, as if the slightest disturbance could tear through the fragile tranquility. She saw the body floating, so close, and yet so impossibly far away.

Tali's fingers gently played over the numerous buttons and dials spread over her propulsion unit, steeling herself for the jump into nothingness. To her right, Miranda was checking all her suit's seals, a completely unnecessary action. If there had been any gaps or broken seals in the hardsuit, all the oxygen would have been sucked out of her suit, just as it had the airlock moments before. They were both trying to distract themselves from the dangerous venture that lay ahead, from the unknown.

Neither of them wanted to be the first to move out of the safety of the airlock. They loitered around, hesitant to make the first and hardest step. Tali forced herself to think of Shepard, who he had been, what he had done. She felt the aching in her heart that she had become so familiar with. She thought one last time about his eyes, glinting as they looked upon hers, unmasked. He had promised he would always be there for her, and she had returned his promise. Then she had failed, had abandoned him to his lonely death, his everlasting exile. This could be her chance to remedy her mistakes, keep her guilt from slowly gnawing away at her, save her from the despair that had permeated her life since his death.

Tali reached down once again, but instead of absently twiddling with the eclectic assortment of dials, she purposefully drove forward on the lever that directed the stasis packs electrical rope to extend. The vacuum did the rest, pulling Tali out of the airlock as the invisible electrical string stretched until she once again jerked to a stop as she reached end of its current extension. This was going to take some getting used to, she thought.

Glancing over her shoulder, Tali saw Miranda rocket out of the airlock behind her, seeming to have no more control over her progression than Tali did. She jerked to a sudden halt a couple feet behind the Quarian. Speaking into the intersuit comm link, Tali said, "I guess we should have read the manual on this first."

"I skimmed it," responded Miranda. "But there's nothing like first-hand experience to drive it home." They began to make their slow progress forward, occasionally brushing small chunks of jagged metal away from their faces.

They finally reached the Commander without encountering any real mishaps along the way. Tali looked down into the dead man's eyes, still wide open. A tear rolled down her cheek, followed by another. She cut them off. No, he would be with her once again, alive. This was just a temporary setback.

Miranda stopped beside her. Through the small window for eyes, Tali could see her melancholy expression. After a couple seconds of silence, Miranda turned away. "Let's bring his body back into the shuttle," she said quietly, without turning around.

Tali obeyed, gingerly lifting up the man. She held his weightless body, starring into his vacant eyes. The fire that she had so often seen burning behind them had been extinguished, replaced by a heartbreaking emptiness. Suddenly, Tali sensed something shift. She turned slowly around to see the eviscerated reaper shift its hold upon the Normandy. It ceased once more. Tali could not hear the squeaking of strained metal, the shattering as they snapped like twigs in a storm.

Miranda turned around, waving Tali onwards, her voice urging as it came through on the speakers in Tali's helmet. "Hurry! That thing shifted. Oh my God, what if it isn't dead?"

Her words spurred Tali forward, panicked at the prospects of the Reaper's return. She jammed on her propulsion unit, shooting forward as she dodged the flotsam that would hang in space forever. She looked downward once more, and saw a stray shard had lacerated the Commander's face, the congealed blood slowly drifting out of the deep gash it left behind. The ugly wound twisted in jagged lines from underneath his left eye, and extended down to the left corner of his mouth. "Dammit," she muttered under breath, not realizing the communications from her helmet were still broadcasting.

"What is it? Are you okay?" came Miranda's worried voice. Tali looked up, startled at the sound of her voice. "Y-Yes. I mean, Oh Keelah, I'm sorry."

Miranda voice came through, the fear evident in her face. "Tali, what the hell is going on?"

"His face, a chunk of metal sliced it open. Miranda, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." Tali was surprised to hear Miranda breath a sigh of relief on the other end. "Oh, well, I guess when we bring him back, he'll have another nice battle scar to add to his collection. But this is a discussion for another time. We still don't know why that reaper ship moved. We have to get the hell out of Dodge."

"Dodge?" Tali questioned.

"Never mind. I'll explain later."

They made it back into the airlock without another movement from the ship. The thick door in the hull quickly closed behind them as the soft blue glow of the decontamination process began. Tali had laid Shepard's body on the floor, and she now sat crouched beside him, holding his lifeless head in her hands. She rubbed her hands across the open slash on his once perfect face. She began to shake with sobs, guilt taking hold of her. Miranda stood by the door, unsure what to do. She had never been much of a social person. She preferred to be alone with her work. She turned and left the airlock as the interior door opened, and once again stepped into the cockpit.

"Did you see that?" she asked Rowe.

"You mean that big ass ship moving? Yes Ma'am, I did. It was only a matter of time though. Smashed precariously like that, something's bound to shift eventually. Metal ain't made to stand up to that sort of pressure."

"So, so, that shift, that was just physics at work?" Miranda asked, thinking she understood, but wanting to be sure.

"Yes. I watched the movement on my sensors. Some chunks of metal finally buckled under all those kilos of weight, and they sort of jus fell apart a bit. It doesn't look like it's over, either. Those things smashed together so good, it's a wonder the Normandy's more than a crumpled up piece of tin foil."

Miranda sat back and shut her eyes. For once, something actually turned out right. She mentally checked off re-annihilate the Reapers off her mental checklist.

"Matt, set a course for the Citadel. We have another pick-up to make."

"All right, I'll put in the coordinates. I really need a nap right now, though. After we get out of this place, can I put the VI back in charge of steering?"

Miranda sighed. "All right, fine. But sleep lightly. Something screw up, you need to get back in the chair pretty damn quickly."

"Fair enough."

Sitting in the co-pilot's chair, Miranda felt the pressure shift as the shuttle reversed course, leaving behind the horrid display, minus one small piece.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Alright, only a chapter or two more of set-up, and then it starts to get really interesting. I know there hasn't been a lot of action, but this isn't really an action story, but the pace will pick up, I promise you. And in the meantime, please review. I won't beg, but pretty please? Or maybe a doggie treat?**

Chapter 6

Degeneration

The small shuttle pulled into a small docking bay, barely noticed by the dockworkers. A small heading written in a book of records was made, and it was promptly forgotten. Nothing important ever came in on these shuttles. Most were just local business coming to finish a deal, or sign off some paperwork, or complete some other tedious bureaucratic nonsense. Nobody paid the slightest heed to the woman who stepped forth from the airlock, or the Quarian who followed behind her.

They stepped inside an elevator that brought them directly to a small corridor in the wards. As the doors slid open, they saw immediately the dirt collected in small pockets against the walls, the fading paint dulling and peeling from the walls. Throughout the access corridor, they could see several doors blacked out, unusable. Warning signs displayed their dismal messages to stay away, the air was gone. The once cluttered hallway now stood empty. No prying eyes were there to watch as they slowly proceeded down the passageway.

Miranda silently passed through a doorway on the right-hand side of the hall. The door opened into an atrium. A small fountain stood in the middle, only a small trickle of brown water running from the opening at the top. In the four corners of the room stood four trees, all browning, leaves cluttering the ground. A Salarian janitor futile swept up the dead leaves, knowing full well that more would only take their place. A young Asari sat behind a desk at the end opposite the door Miranda and Tali had just entered through. She sat in the almost entirely vacated room looking bored and more than a little disgusted by her dreary surroundings.

With a purposeful step, Miranda strode briskly up to the wooden desk, one of the only places left that was still kept shiny and clean. Tali was forced to rush after her to keep up with the human. She arrived at the counter where the Asari sat, immediately straightening, stretching her height to appear more imposing. Tali thought it looked almost comical, and had to stifle a small sort, but the Asari appeared to fidget uncomfortably. "Let me see the records of the people staying in the wards," she said, her voice making it clear that the statement was not a request.

"I'm afraid that's against regulation," the Asari drawled slowly, trying to put an indifferent inflection into her voice.

"I don't think your bosses would be to upset if you just let me take a peek," Miranda responded. Her hand moved deliberately to her side, where a pistol hung in full view.

"However, I don't think it will do any harm," she quickly added, accessing a terminal on the desk where she located Miranda's omnitool power output, and sent her the register. "I can't let you keep the files, though," she said timidly. "I've set the file to delete after five minutes." She looked up to see the strange woman already walking away down the hall, her Quarian servant walking briskly so as to keep up. She breathed a sigh of relief, the empty room now seeming more of a blessing than a curse.

Tali followed anxiously behind Miranda's brisk pace, unsure where she was being led. She was used to the feeling. Tali had experienced it many times before with Shepard, who now lay frozen in their shuttle, alone with a pilot Tali didn't even know. But this time was different. Tali didn't trust the Cerberus agent as she had with Shepard. She would not follow her to death unquestionably. She told herself Miranda was just a temporary nuisance, that they could once again return to their cold indifference of two years.

Suddenly Miranda stopped, looking around to see if they had been followed. The hall was empty. She turned back around to the door, and knocked once, sharply, the piercing sound echoing down the vacant passage. Miranda cringed at the noise, praying there was nobody else around to hear it. As her eyes flitted anxiously back and forth down the deserted corridor, the door silently opened, creating a gap no more than a few inches wide. Miranda silently slipped inside, still glancing up and down. Tali quickly followed suit, closing the door silently once again.

They stood in a small room, an old lumpy mattress lay on a rusty bed frame that sagged under its weight. Insects flitted around the room, crawled up the walls. Tali once again found herself extraordinarily grateful for her environmental suit as she shut off her olfactory filters.

Standing in the middle of the filth, looking back at them intently, was Garrus Vakarian. "You got here just in time. I was about to do something inordinately stupid. This apartment is driving me insane," Garrus said, his voice light, but his eyes burning angrily.

"About to? Do you know how easy it was to find you here?" asked Miranda angrily.

"Of course you'd have it easy, I'm sure the Illusive Man tells you everything you want to know immediately. And I've done some research since we talked over the vid. It seems you're right about the deaths." Garrus turned to look at Tali for the first time. "How much longer do you think it'll be before she tries to kill us?" he asked matter-of-factly.

To her surprise, Tali found herself come to Miranda's defense. "If she had wanted to kill me, don't you think it would have been smarter to kill me when I was alone? If she really was the one killing us, I would have been dead back in the Quarian colony."

"Maybe she just wanted to get us both at the same time. Maybe she thought she could persuade me easier if you were alive as well," Garrus said, but he sounded more uncertain.

"Yes, that's true, but if it is, Miranda could easily have killed me after you broke the connection in the video. I believe I'm still here."

Garrus's mandibles twitched uncomfortably as he tried to think of a response, a reason the Cerberus slave would betray them, but was unable. Instead, he walked over to the bed in the corner and sat down. He looked back up at the two women, waiting expectantly for someone to say something, to clarify what it was they were doing there.

Tali saw the look in his eyes, and was about to say something when Miranda, who heard the intake of breath through the communicator in Tali's suit, held out her hand to stop the barrage of words she knew was about to come forth. She shook her head slowly, mouthing the words not here. Speaking aloud once more, using the name Garrus had registered the room under, she said, "Well, Mr. Sid Heart, I believe you have Presidium clearance with your C-Sec history, maybe we could take a stroll up there."

Garrus didn't answer; instead he simply walked to the door, opened it, and stepped into the forgotten passageway outside, heading resolutely down the hall. He walked right down another hallway, Miranda and Tali following closely, before he finally stepped up to an elevator. He pulled out a small card and scanned it in front of a sensor. The elevator slid soundlessly open. He held up the card and turned to the other two. "I always knew there was a reason I was keeping this thing," he said, to neither in particular. They stepped quietly inside as the doors slid shut once again, and the elevator began its long ascent skyward.

Tali tried to see through the grime that coated the glass walls of the elevator, tried to watch as the dank filthy Wards dropped away, becoming smaller and smaller with each passing second. The doors slid open to reveal the lakes, drained and murky. The small statue that Tali now knew to be a miniature mass relay built by the Protheans, stood proudly as its surroundings slowly died, a testament to the brilliance of the Prothean hands that had built it tens of thousands years ago. Across the shrunken lake, the Krogan effigy gazed forlornly at its dwindling kingdom. Just as the Krogan had their territory destroyed and lost, so this figure watched on as its greatness faded away, a memory.

Businessmen and politicians bustled past, their eyes kept to the ground, taking no notice of the new arrivals. Nobody stopped to talk as they had done before. Everyone here was anxious to complete their business so they could leave the forsaken ship to fade away in peace.

As they walked, Tali actually found herself enjoying the trip. Nobody paid her a second glance. She was so used to the hateful stares, the false superiority of the self-righteous. For once, she was able to walk among the crowd, to simply blend in with the down turned heads, the countless hidden faces.

Suddenly, she found herself climbing a small flight of stairs as they strode into the embassies. They found Anderson, standing along the balcony of the human embassy, his favorite haunt. The room was otherwise deserted, aside from the gnats that flitted through the air, stowaways from the cargo ships, no longer able to be contained. The councilor absently swatted at one as his meandered along his uniform.

Garrus gently coughed, alerting the man to their presence in the room. He looked confused for a second, before realization dawned. "You've heard about the deaths, then, I presume," he said, calmly and without any real conviction.

"Well," Miranda began, feeling only marginally uncomfortable with what she was about to say, "we actually came here for the solitude. People aren't usually in this room," she trailed off. "Wait, how did you find out about the deaths?" she asked suddenly.

"Miss Lawson," he said, cutting her off as she was about to interject, "Yes, yes, I know your name as well, you worked with Shepard a year ago. I don't generally forget a name or a face. But anyway, I believe I can better fulfill my role as councilor if I know what's going on in the galaxy. I've read the reports. It seems the three of you aren't exactly safe where you are, not down in the Wards. It isn't very hard to locate a person down in the slums of the Citadel, is it, Mr. Heart?"

Anderson raised a hand at Garrus's bemused expression. "I have access to the records of people staying in the Wards. It makes searches much easier on C-Sec if they know what it is they're looking for.

"Anyone who knows anything about your past would not have a hard time figuring out your identity, Garrus. You might as well have named yourself Sidonis Saleon. It really isn't any easier to figure out," continued the councilor.

"I like to remind myself of my regrets," Garrus said, softly. "There are only two. Killing Sidonis, and allowing that bastard Saleon to go free."

"If reminding yourself of your regrets led to your death, I believe then you might have three," Anderson replied.

Tali had stood silently against the wall during this exchange, contemplating the human councilor. He seemed to have just as much information as they did, probably more with the clearance he was given as a result of his councilor position. Without moving, the young Quarian said, "Excuse me, Councilor, would you happen to know anything regarding whom it is that's been killing us?"

"Nothing, I'm sorry to say. The news stories didn't say anything, just that they were shot. Speaking of that, I'd say the three of you aren't exactly safe yourselves. I have access to several private rooms that I never use, I could loan one to you. Since the rooms are private, there won't be any records on file of your presence there. It isn't absolutely foolproof, but it'll be safer than virtually any other place on the Citadel, or really anywhere, for that matter."

"We'll at least take the room as a precaution," said Miranda, "provided there isn't any paperwork to be filled out. Nothing that can be traced back to us. We're doing our best to keep a low profile for now."

"Well, it seems you're already better at that than Shepard was. That man couldn't go five minutes without getting in a firefight." Anderson smiled sadly, thinking about the man who had saved humanity. He would never be back again.

Tali noticed the sudden change in the man's mood. Without drawing attention to it, she calmly said, "O think we should leave the Councilor to his work. From what I've been hearing about the negotiations, it sounds like there's a lot on that front."

"How is that whole issue coming along, Anderson?" Garrus asked, his interest causing him to forget protocol. Anderson paid no attention to the informality.

"Better than I'd hoped. You'd be surprised just how anxious they are to get back in power. The Asari are actually set to have a seat returned to them before the week is out. The rest are still negotiating, but some are looking like they won't be too far behind the Asari. I tell you, I'll be glad to not have to do all the work around here anymore. Once this has all been settled, I think I'll finally be getting around to retirement. God knows I could use the time off."

"Thank you Councilor," Miranda cut in, ending the conversation. "We'll let you get back to work here. We just need to know where this room will be, and how long we'll have it for."

"The room is off a side passage in the citadel tower. It's the one place that's still kept up around here. And only the highest up have access, so they'll be relatively little traffic up there, as well. It's as private as you'll be able to get here. I'll register the three of you for access to the tower and the room. The number is 2113. It'll be ready whenever you need to access it." The councilor sighed as the three said their good-byes while he acknowledged them half-heartedly. Back to the grind. Anderson pulled two more of the painkillers from his pocket and swallowed them, coughing slightly as the sickly sweet taste caught in his throat.

The three companions arrived back at the bottom of the stairs from the embassy, about to access the new real estate when they were approached by a young Drell. Tali thought something about the man looked slightly familiar. As he began to speak, she remembered where she had seen him before. He had been on the Citadel before, to kill a Turian politician, Joram Talid. He spoke quickly, clearly in a rush.

"C-Sec is coming, I'm not supposed to be up here, not after, well, trying to kill politicians doesn't exactly give you security clearance. I couldn't get a visitor's pass, so I snuck up here. I don't know how soon they'll be here. They've probably figured it out by now," he said, without pausing for breath.

"Slow down," Garrus said, sounding both concerned and accusatory. "How about you just tell us who the hell you are. Why are you trying to speak with us?"

"He's Thane's son," Tali said softly, hardly realizing she had spoken.

Kolyat paused, taken aback. How did this Quarian know who he was? Realization dawned as he realized she had been the other one who had been there when he was caught by Thane and Shepard. He had barely taken notice of the girl at the time, probably not much beyond his own age, but he turned to her now. If one of them at least knew of him, maybe they would come back with him. He pressed forward. "Yes, I am Thane's son. Thane," he paused, then added, "My father, is on his deathbed. He does not have much time. He asked me to find anyone who worked with Shepard, he needed to speak with them before his crossing over to the soul world."

The silence that followed this statement seemed to way down the small company for a moment, before Kolyat's nervous fidgeting, looking over his shoulder to see if the officers were coming, pushed them back from their contemplation.

"How did you find us?" Miranda asked suddenly, wondering who else had sought them.

"I heard it from some former Asari information broker staying in an apartment on Illium. I don't remember her name. She said you were on the Citadel," he said indicating Garrus. "After that, all it took was a little bribe money to track you up here."

"I thought we were alone when we got into that Presidium elevator," Miranda said, more to herself than anyone else.

"Could it have been Liara?" Garrus asked casually, posing the question to seem only a casual aside.

"I think her name was something like that," Kolyat replied. "But I don't think that's important right now. I need to know if you'll come see Thane out of this world. I can give you the location, but I have to go now. If C-Sec catches me here, I'll be arrested, and Th-my father will die alone."

Miranda hesitated, not eager to waste time visiting old associates when they needed to be working on bringing Shepard back. As she paused, Tali spoke instead.

"Give us the coordinates. We'll see Thane off," she said decisively.

Kolyat voiced his thanks, sending the coordinates to Tali's omnitool before he silently slipped off into the shadows, away from prying eyes.

Miranda turned angrily toward Tali. "Who the hell are you to be making decisions without consulting all of us?"

"Would you have asked Garrus or I if you had come to a decision?" Tali accused. Before Miranda could reply, she added, "Kolyat said Thane needed to speak with someone who knew Shepard. He didn't name anyone specific. What if he knows something, something that could help us?"

Miranda spun angrily and stalked ahead toward the elevator to return to the Wards, back to their shuttle. They should be gong to the safety of the new apartment, not wishing some dead man good luck in the afterlife. She knew Tali was right, that maybe he did know something, but she hated to admit it. She never made mistakes. Were emotions beginning to cloud her judgment? She had never appreciated the enhancements given her by her bastard father, but at least they had come to good use many times. He had at least made her good at what she did. Was she beginning to lose her touch? The self doubt that had nagged at her for so long persisted all the way back onto the shuttle, before her sense of duty once again forced her to forget her own emotions, focus on the objective. She retreated behind a wall of business as she reluctantly handed the coordinates to Matt Rowe. As the shuttle pulled out of the hangar, she swore she heard Garrus complaining about the cramped shuttle through the thick metal door of the cockpit.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Well, I'm sure you all know the drill, please read, review, etc. I won't bore you with the details. Please enjoy chapter 7!**

Chapter 7

Vision and Memory

The shuttle stood alone in an empty field, the long grass that stretched on as far as the eye could see in all directions swayed gently, brushing the hard metal hull. Across the undulating field, small ramshackle huts rose, seeming out of place, solid and immovable among the constant motion that engulfed them, the homes of the destitute damned to suffer Keplar's syndrome, unable to afford homes in the dome city. The air was relatively arid, however; the sky clear and blue, the one place on the planet that was not in view of an ocean, river, or lake. Still, sometimes carried along by a humid breeze from the West, clouds would roil across the sky, dark and ominous before they unleashed Heaven's wrath upon the small village below. Arriving at one house, three shadowy figures disappeared inside the entryway, the knotted wooden door closing behind them.

Inside the house, Garrus, Miranda, and Tali stood in a cramped hallway, dust gathering on the sparse selection of decoration that stood on small cupboards or hung drearily on the walls. They stood just inside the door, unsure what to do just as Kolyat stepped quietly onto the dusty carpet. There were deep creases between his jet black eyes as he motioned them into the room from which he had just stepped out.

As they entered the room, they could see Thane lying on his small bed, one of the only furnishings in his Spartan room. His eyes were closed, and he appeared to be sleeping, but he opened them as a fit of coughing racked his body, sending violent shudders pulsating along his prostrate form. As the attacks finally began to lessen, he once again tried to suck in the air as his lungs slowly filled with the liquid that permeated almost every inch of Kahje's surface. His breaths came quick and shallow, his chest rising and falling rapidly. He succumbed to another fit, and as he did so, Tali turned to face Kolyat. "Why isn't he in the hospital, with these conditions?" she asked.

"Because a hospital won't do anything for him, only prolong his agony. There is no hope."

No hope. Tali looked back at the man as he lay on the bed. She had known what it felt like to be hopeless. She was just beginning to overcome the feeling, but Thane never would. His death hung in the air, ubiquitous.

Thane's hacking once again ceased, and is it did, he looked around, taking in the three new arrivals. A look of confusion was replaced by a dawning realization on his pale, prematurely aged countenance. In a voice soft and cracked, he began to speak, straining to form each syllable. "Hello, old friends. I'm glad you have come. There is something I need to share with you, but I'm not sure of its meaning."

Suddenly, his eyes seemed to glaze over, and he seemed to forget they were in the room. His words began to paint a picture, the sentences uttered in broken fragments.

"He stands alone. A long scar crosses his face, deep, like a ravine. He holds a gun over his shoulder, a man fallen at his feet, a shadow. A planet swirls behind him, oceans swirling like hurricanes, they glide over one another. The light illuminates them in a soft glow, as if it is a sun that shines behind them." Thane's words hung in the air, the image frozen in everyone's mind.

Breaking the ponderous silence, Miranda asked, incredulous, "Is this what we needed to hear? Just a random memory?" She shook her head, annoyed at the waste of precious time when Thane responded.

"No, not a memory. I have never seen this before, not physically. I have had this vision multiple times since my condition has left me bedridden. I know the man in the image, we all do. The man is Shepard. I do not know the one at his feet; his face is always hidden in shadow. There is however, one thing different about Shepard in my vision. He now has the scar across the left of his face. I do know what this means, if the gods have given me a vision of hope for me to carry on to the afterlife, or if the neurons in my brain are simply misfiring, projecting images of my past that have no meaning."

During his description of the new scar across Shepard's face, Tali and Miranda had turned to look at each other, Tali seeing the same bewilderment plastered on Miranda's face as she herself felt. As Tali began to contemplate the significance of the vision, she once again felt a surge of hope. Could this really be a sign given by some benevolent god to ease Thane's separation from the world? Was it a sign that they would succeed, that Shepard would return once more?

"When the vision first began, I believed it was indeed conformation that Shepard would return. My confidence led me to confide in my son to tell Shepard of my fate upon his return. But now, as my days grow dark and bleak, my meditations have led to me question myself. I think my brain may already have begun to die."

A third outburst of coughing, even worse than the first two suddenly ravaged the already dead man's body, leaving him clutching his burning chest in agony, as he lay gasping, unable to take in the oxygen that hung so tantalizingly close in the air all around him. Finally, after what seemed an eternity, he was once again able to draw in ragged breaths. He closed his eyes again, the conversation thoroughly exhausting the little energy he still had. Garrus, still standing silent and reserved by the door, slowly slipped back out into the hallway, Kolyat behind him. Tali and Miranda glanced back at Thane, before exchanging one more look and following the two men.

Outside the room, after closing the door, they spoke in hushed voices so as not to disturb the dying man.

"Just what in the hell was that about?" Garrus asked. "Shepard?"

"My father is very sick; he will never again leave the bed you saw him in. Even if there was a cure, he would have needed the treatment weeks ago to stop the progression. He's been deprived of oxygen for weeks now; I wouldn't be surprised if it's lessened his brain function substantially."

"You're saying he's just having random memory flashes, or making things up?" Garrus pushed.

"I'm saying it's very possible. He may be having meaningless visions that incorporate other memories, or it may be a memory, but he doesn't remember it. He is losing his past and confusing it with the future. After seeing his condition now, I wonder if it would not be kinder for death to have come for him weeks ago."

"Thane mentioned a scar on Shepard's face," Tali began, before she was interrupted by Garrus.

"Exactly. He must be confusing memories. Shepard never had any scars, at least not the kind Thane described. There was never a deep gash, just some small cuts from the first Lazarus, and he healed those in the med bay back when the Normandy was more than just a crumpled up chunk of scrap." Garrus looked down sadly, as the simple statement brought memories rushing back. On the citadel, as flames burst forth through the walls as Sovereign plummeted, torn apart and dead through the tower. As he looked through the scope of a sniper rifle at the Turian who betrayed him, his whole team, as his finger tightened around the trigger. As the lifeless body of the human reaper collapsed before him into a great chasm, and the ground began to shudder before giving way. As Shepard picked up the Turian and dragged him into an escape pod, sealing the door as he struggled against the Commander. As he watched the Normandy plunge into Harbinger, liquid fire erupting through the hull, sending chunks of shrapnel launching like rockets in all directions as electricity crackled across the crumpling, interwoven spacecrafts like lightning.

Garrus's reverie was broken up by Tali, once again trying to finish her statement. "No, you misunderstood, Garrus. The scar, it's real."

Garrus paused, trying to figure out what she meant, but was unable. "I'm afraid I'm not sure where you're going, Tali," he said, confused, never having seen Shepard's body, knowing only that it was frozen in a makeshift cryo chamber.

"When we were bringing Shepard's body back on board the shuttle, the left side of his face was sliced open by a chunk of metal. The cut went deep, and it left behind a nasty scar. If Thane was just seeing random images, how would he know about the scar?"

"It could have just been coincidence," Garrus said, refusing to let his hopes up.

"Yes, but how would that explain him knowing its location across the left side of his head? What if there is a god, or gods? What if he was given a vision, a prophecy or something? I know it may not be right, but maybe it's something, more than we had before at least, even if it is a false hope," she said, the desperation she tried to contain only slightly showing through her barriers.

"Tali, you've known me for several years, now. I'm sure you've been able to guess in that time that I don't believe in any higher powers. Everything is just coincidence. Things don't happen because they're predestined. They happen because nature makes it so. If this Lazarus project does work, by some unforeseen miracle," Garrus said, his voice rising, not even sure why he was becoming heated, "then it will be because we fired him back up again, not because the neuron's in a dead man's brain are firing off random images!"

Tali stepped back, shocked at the outburst, turning away from the Turian. Kolyat, having watched the exchange in riveted silence, found himself stepping to Thane's defense. "That dead man is my damn father! I thought giving the dying their due respect was universal, but I guess I shouldn't assume anything!"

"You said yourself that the vision almost certainly meant nothing," Garrus shot back.

"Yes, but…but, I agree with you, I know, but hearing you call him a dead man, I…it just finalized his death. I can't help him." Kolyat slumped against an old, faded, dusty wall. He cradled his head in his hands, trying to build up his barricade again, trying to be indifferent to his father. As he had watched Thane's slow deterioration into the frail shell he had become, Kolyat had dropped his barriers, trying to regain the time he had lost with the father he had never knew. If he could once again return to his unconcerned apathy, he could keep away the demons that had haunted him his entire life. He told himself this, but he knew it was a lie. He had come too far to revert back to his cold manner.

Garrus stood helplessly, watching Tali as she proceeded down the hallway, refusing to make eye contact with him, or Kolyat, slowly sliding until he was sitting at the base of the wall, his head in his heads as he tried futilely to collect himself. He felt the first wave of guilt wash over him, knowing he was in the wrong on both accounts. Here he was thinking he was the mature one of the group, aside from Miranda. She stood to the side, refusing to interfere, watching Garrus passively. He saw the slight disdainful shake of her head, but refused to comment. He knew she was right, no point in trying to fool himself.

As the day progressed, Tali began to grow anxious. She knew they had to stay until Thane died, but she couldn't help but find herself agreeing with what Miranda had said on the Citadel, that this entire trip had been a waste of time. Thane didn't know anything about who was killing them. If he did, he would have told them upon their arrival. She doubted he even knew about the killings in the first place, and she didn't have the heart to tell him, to burden him with the weight of their troubles days, maybe even hours, before he passed on. Tali couldn't help but feel guilty for thinking these thoughts, that this journey had been a waste of time, but there was no point in trying to deny it. She knew she would only be lying to herself.

Tali had split away from the other three, who sat in silence in the kitchen. Nobody spoke, but nobody needed to. They all knew what it was that was on everyone's minds. Thane's imminent demise hung in the air; it seemed to weigh down on the room at large. She had been unable to stand the dismal hush in the small room, had left to be alone with he thoughts. She leaned against the wall outside Thane's room, when she heard a faint whispering coming from within.

Silently opening the door so as not to disturb the dying assassin, she glanced around the doorframe, not stepping into the room proper. He saw her enter, his faded eyes looking at her pleading, what little color that still remained in his atrophied body slowly fading. She noticed in horror that his chest was no longer moving. He gasped, desperately trying to breathe as he slowly drowned from within. Tali quickly withdrew, sprinting into the kitchen. Garrus, who sat facing the door, stood up quickly as she appeared suddenly in the doorway, gesturing, urging them to hurry, the scared desperation explicit in both her voice and actions. Garrus swiftly stepped to the door, following Tali as she returned to Thane, struggling helplessly against his lungs as they finally failed, after years of weakening. Kolyat and Miranda arrived breathlessly behind them.

As Kolyat saw his father, he ran over, kneeling at the bedside, holding the man's struggling hand within his own. At his son's long absent touch, Thane's struggling stopped. He turned to look at Kolyat, the latter finally allowing his father to see more than a blank stare. Thane struggled to speak, but was unable to speak them, the oxygen needed for the act absent, but Kolyat could make out the words his father had wished to speak. With a dry sob, he gently leaned over and embraced Thane, whispering words only for his hearing. "I love you too, Father."

Thane's eyes closed for the last, and as his thoughts began to blacken, tight in his son's warm embrace, Thane entered into one last memory. The last thing he saw before the world turned black was a pair of sunset eyes staring back at him through a scope.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Well, here it is, chapter 8! I realize this chapter is perhaps a tad on the slower side, but it still sets up some plot stuff (I'm not one to just put in filler because I can't think of anything else, something's going to happen in every chapter, I promise), but the next couple of chapters are going to pick back up again, please don't give up on me! And as always, please read and review! And please, enjoy.  
**

Chapter 8

Temporary Lodgings

The return flight to the Citadel was made in almost complete silence, the atmosphere heavy. None of them had known the Drell particularly well; he had always been very reserved and withdrawn, preferring to pass the days alone in the life support room reflecting on his past and preparing for the future. The other members of the Normandy had been perfectly content leaving the assassin to his own devices. The Drell had had a certain aura about him, a sort of brooding isolation that discouraged any attempts to socialize with him. Garrus began to wonder if Thane's remoteness had been by conscious effort, or whether he had been ostracized by the rest of the crew. No, he had wanted it that way, Garrus assured himself. He shook his head quickly, trying to erase the thoughts. Thane was dead, but they had barely known each other, the only occasion they had had to speak was for the purpose of discussing plans and strategy in the comm room on the Normandy. He rubbed his temples, gently massaging the headache that had been forming, steadily worsening on the flight back to the Citadel. He sighed and leaned back against the stiff wooden bench, closing his eyes. He needed some sleep, desperately. He hadn't closed his eyes for almost two full days, now, and this shuttle was better than the dingy apartment he had rented on the Citadel.

Tali and Miranda sat on the bench across from the Turain. A painful silence hung in the air, yet neither wanted to be the one to break the tension. Tali stood up, quietly, trying to keep from waking Garrus. She stepped over to the porthole, watching as the stars glided smoothly past, sentinels keeping watch in the eternal night. They would always be there. They had passively watched the destruction of the Protheans and every race that had existed before. When everything she had ever known had long since turned to dust and been forgotten, they would still hang in the sky, watching over a new generation.

But one day even the stars would be gone, the planets would crumble into dust, and everything that had seemed immovable and permanent would pass away. She remembered thinking of Shepard as permanent, as much a part of the universe as the stars that shone outside. Even two years ago, after he had been resurrected, these feeling returned, possible more powerful than ever. Everyone died once, and he had already paid those dues. Why couldn't he have just lasted forever?

"We will be arriving at the Citadel in approximately ten minutes. Please prepare for exit from the vessel," said the voice, interrupting Tali's train of thought. Garrus stirred at the announcement, blinking quickly while looking blearily about the cabin.

"Why is it that you're always more tired after you wake up?" he asked, to no one in particular.

"Well, you heard Mr. Rowe, pack your suitcases," Miranda said, standing up to speak, looking around at the distinct lack of baggage within the small shuttle.

"Why can't we just discuss our business here?" asked Tali. "It's more private than Garrus's apartment on the Citadel, or really any place there for that matter."

"Remember, Anderson gave us the special councilor suite. I don't think we have to worry about our privacy. Not to mention, it'll look suspicious if we land in the dock and then stay shut up inside. If we wanted to talk on the shuttle, we could've done it on the flight over. Mr. Rowe also needs to run some systems checks and refuel. It's best if we stay out of his way."

Garrus stood up, stretching, and yawned. He did his best not to think of Thane, how the color had drained from his face as he died, the years of pain washed away in the blink of an eye. Five. Now five of Shepard's old team was dead. Would there be a sixth? He looked around the small cabin, seeing Tali's limp form strewn across the floor, her mask cracked, blood, scarlet red and glistening in the artificial light of the cabin, beginning to pool on the ground her. Miranda, lying facedown, bullet holes riddling her figure as her breathing slowly began to fade, growing softer and softer. He saw the blood smatter the window behind him, as a clip shattered his eyepiece, ripping through his frail, insignificant body like a knife through warm butter. He shook his head trying to rid himself of macabre imagery. He pinched the bridge of his nose as his headache began to burn, pounding against the inside of his skull like an enraged beast.

Tali looked over at Garrus concernedly. Beads of sweat hung suspended by his face as his eyes closed together tightly.

"Are you alright, Garrus," she asked the worry evident in her tone.

"I'm fine, it'll pass, Garrus managed to choke out through his grimace.

Tali took one last glance at the Turian, reassuring herself that he was fine, just a headache. She remembered Kaidan had used to get the same kind of headaches. His pain had died with him on Virmire, his body forever lost, incinerated as the bomb he died to defend ripped his very being apart at the seams.

As she reflected on her fallen companion whom she hadn't seen in four years, she felt the momentum of the ship subtly shift underneath her feet. The other two hadn't seemed to notice, but her senses had been honed by life aboard the flotilla. Ships had almost become a part of her. She could read the subtle shifts in weight, knew the slight weightless feeling that signaled the utilization of an FTL drive. Tali stepped over to the porthole once more, her supposition proving correct. In the distance, drawing rapidly nearer, the Citadel waited, its tentacled maw agape, ready to swallow the shuttle whole. A shadow fall across her, and Tali turned to see Miranda standing behind her, observing their swift approach.

Tali stepped into the airlock, eager to escape the cramped shuttle. Garrus followed, still massaging his splitting head. Miranda still stood at the porthole, looking out at the great space station. Inside, the Citadel was falling apart, but from her vantage point, the great space station still held all its former majesty.

The small shuttle sped into the docking bay, mechanical grips locking onto the sides of the ship, holding it in place. A flight technician filled out a small note in the records up on the control deck, a flight listing of the different ships in each port, and then the small, unobtrusive ship was promptly forgotten about. Just what Miranda had wanted.

They stepped quietly off the ship. Tali looked around the corner wearily. She had been shot at way too many times to take her safety for granted. Instincts had saved her life on more than one occasion. Thankfully, the three were not welcomed by the crack of weapons as they unloaded their contents, and they reached the docking elevator without incident.

Once the elevator reached the C-Sec academy, the three exited, while Garrus hailed a cab at the transit station. A sleek, red shuttle pulled alongside the terminal, its hinged door sliding upwards with a pneumatic hiss. The smell of antiseptic greeted them as they entered the passenger compartment. Tali quickly input the destination on the holo screen inside the door of the shuttle, and they sped down the dark taxi tunnels towards the Citadel Tower.

They left the shuttle unobtrusively, and began to casually walk down a corridor of the tower, some of the C-Sec officers eyeing them suspiciously despite their clearance passes. After what seemed like an eternity, they finally arrived at a door, that although small and plain, stood out, if nothing else, because of the lack of dust on its frame. The wood almost seemed to shine underneath the artificial sun. The door opened silently on well-oiled hinges, and upon stepping inside, they were greeted by a rush of cold air. Tali looked around the room in shock. They were in a large room, its arched ceiling reaching upwards in a domed arch to a single point overhead. Portraits of assorted dignitaries representing all the Citadel races hung upon the walls in perfect intervals. They peered down at the new arrivals, disapproving of the new company. A hallway, the floor covered by an exquisite red carpet, an ornate pattern adorning its surface, reached down the length of the apartment, several doors lining the path, leading off into separate rooms. Garrus immediately opened the first door on the left. Inside was a bed, the sheets already made, pillows littering the top end. The head board was elaborately carved, depictions of leaves and vines intertwining within the dark wood. The Turian sighed contentedly as he sprawled across the sheets on the bed. Just as his eyes were closing, Miranda walked in front of the door, clapping her hands loudly. She received an annoyed glare from Garrus as he painstakingly sat up against the headboard. "What do you want? Can't it wait until I've had my nap?" Garrus asked plaintively.

"No. We need a plan of action. Take a nap when we have our business is squared away," Miranda said impatiently.

"Fine, then let's just get it over with. I'm not moving, though, so if you want me in on this plan of action, we'll make it in here."

Miranda sighed. She had a feeling that if she really wanted to, it would not be all that difficult to find a bone to draw the Turian from his reclined position against the headrest, but it really wasn't worth arguing over.

Tali who had been standing silently just behind Miranda, brushed past her as she entered the room, sitting next to Garrus. She rested her feet on the bed, and looked expectantly towards Miranda to begin the impromptu conference. Miranda leaned against the doorframe, suddenly beginning to speak. "We need money to perform this operation, and we need a place to conduct the procedure. As far as our monetary issues are concerned, none of us have become billionaires in our expeditions. So unless anyone has any better ideas, we're going to have to steal it."

Tali and Garrus were silent; they already knew the plan, they just needed to finalize it. "Yes, and we're going to intercept and Eclipse shipment because they have access to large funds, but relatively little members, so there's less of a chance of retribution," Tali said, urging Miranda to get into the details. She knew Miranda had an idea; she had been silent, calculating for the entire return trip from Kahje.

Miranda looked up, surprised. She wasn't used to being interrupted. Her days with Cerberus had gotten her used to unquestionable obedience, answering only to the Illusive Man. If a low ranking member wanted an intermediary to pass on a message, Miranda was the one to pass on concerns. She commanded respect, if not always loyalty. Still, they obeyed her unquestionably, wary lest they receive the reprisal of the Illusive Man.

"Well, in our many encounters with the Eclipse in the past, I've been able to take IDs from several of the bodies. I have access to certain systems in the Eclipse network, nothing major where any plans are made, but I think Tali may be able to hack into some of the minor systems."

"Wait, hasn't somebody noticed that these mercs are dead?" asked Garrus disbelievingly.

"Yes, but not instantly. It still gave me time to break into the systems, unleash several viruses. In case one was discovered, I put in several different types, but they all accomplish the same purpose. When a mercenary turns up dead, their access to the site is permanently revoked, but this bug works its way into the ever-changing pass codes. So, to put it simply, while I still have one of their systems active, this virus opens up a backdoor that escapes the notice of the security checks. It's almost how real viruses work. They put their own DNA into a cell, and the cell overlooks the change because it is so minor. Well, this little bug, designed by the best technical experts Cerberus had to offer, sends off a false signal that is picked up by the scans, which are fooled into seeing everything as being open. The backdoor that the virus initiates is left perpetually open, so we can access the system even with a dead mercenary's pass code even when his clearance has been revoked. The only problem is that it can only be put into the system level that has already been opened. We haven't found any high enough ranking officers to access higher security sections. If I can get you into the Eclipse private system, would you be able to hack into a more secure location?" she asked Tali.

"That would depend on the complexity of the system, but I think I could manage it. I don't imagine they would pay millions of credits for the highest level security system when they're already confident with their methods."

"Fantastic. But we can't try it here, not on the Citadel. They have security agents checking extranet connections. If we go into the system of an illegal, not to mention powerful, mercenary group, we'll be arrested. Even if Anderson could exonerate us, which I'm not even confident that he would, we wouldn't last very long sitting in a prison cell if somebody is trying to kill us," Garrus said matter-of-factly.

"How do you know our connections are being watched?" asked Miranda

"I was in C-Sec for several years here. They constantly had lower ranking members running security checks over the extranet connections, looking for suspicious activity. Unless they've changed since I left, they'll still be disregarding our privacy now, and C-Sec never really was the type of organization that liked to change. Procedure's too important."

"Damn. Tali, looks like we'll have to put your skills to the test back on our shuttle. Either way, we probably shouldn't come back here. If our known assailants got wind of our lodging here, they could intercept us when we return. I think it's best we stay on our toes. I hope the two of you are used to home sweet shuttle, because I have the feeling we'll be seeing a lot of it in the coming weeks," Miranda said.

"Well, before we get out of here, I thought I was going to at least get a nap while there's still a bed around. I'm not too eager with the prospects of sleeping on a wooden bench for several weeks," Garrus complained agitatedly.

"I'm sorry, but it's time to check out. We need to go tell Councilor Anderson the room is available once again. We can't waste any time getting out of here."

Garrus got the distinct impression that Miranda was enjoying herself.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Fallen Soldier

It seemed as if the human councilor had not moved since they had last seen him. He once again stood at the dull white balcony, watching as the kingdom over which he presided slowly deteriorated, knowing full well it was not in his power to stop it.

Anderson heard the small hiss of air as the door slid shut behind the new arrivals. He turned to face them, his eyes bloodshot, deep lines stretching across his pallid features. He began to speak, trying to sound glad to see them. "So how is the room working out for you?"

"That's what we came to talk about, Councilor," Miranda said.

Anderson frowned at the title. "I hate formalities. I deal with titles from bureaucrats and politicians, because they refuse anything else, but I'd prefer it if we just kept Captain."

"I'll do my best to remember that, Captain," she replied. Anderson thought he could make out a slightly disapproving attitude, but he wasn't sure.

"We're going to be leaving the Citadel for awhile," Garrus spoke up, cutting to the point. "We won't be needing the room you got for us anymore. It's available should you need it for something."

"Well, thanks for the courtesy, but I really don't think I'm going to be using it for anything. I'm not one to entertain the politicians when we aren't arguing in some conference room."

"You may not need it now, but I don't think we're coming back here. Even if you tried to keep it private, we don't know if the information was leaked. We can't risk it," Miranda said forcefully.

Anderson gave up, and turned to face back out over the Presidium, massaging his head.

"Coun…Captain Anderson, are you okay?" Tali asked, the worry evident in her face as the Captain began to wretch. He merely looked up and nodded, his eyes unfocused, and he stood swaying like a drunk. He stumbled over to a chair, collapsing into the soft cushions, burying his head in his hands. Garrus nodded towards the doorway, urging the other two to follow him out, knowing they felt as uncomfortable in the uneasy silence as he himself did.

The three walked quietly towards the door, trying not to disturb Anderson further. As the door once again slid open, the only sound a slight hiss as the doors separated and disappeared into the walls, Anderson staggered to his feet, taking small, hesitant steps towards the balcony once again. He gripped the railing, trying to keep from pitching over the side. In a cracked voice, he called after them, managing to catch their attention before the door once again slid to a close. "Please, before you go, take this with you," he said, picking up a dusty bottle from off the floor, half-full of a partially congealed liquid. The remains sloshed inside as he held out the bottle with shaking hands. "I need to stop. Ever since I've had this job, since the stress started, I began drinking again. It's been getting worse. Please, take it away. I'm killing myself here. This bottle, I just got it this morning." He once again extended his arm, thrusting the bottle forward, making sure they all saw how much was already gone.

Garrus stepped forward, lifting the bottle from the shrunken man's hands. As the cold glass slid from his grab, Anderson couldn't hide the look of longing that passed across his face. It was just as quickly replaced by small, contented smile. "Well, there's one problem off my back. I just wish someone could help me with the other ones."

"That bad?" the Turian asked sympathetically.

Anderson chuckled without a hint of humor. "You have no idea. The Asari saw how easily they were getting in, so now they've started making their own demands. No one can possibly just make these simple for a change." His fingers drummed anxiously on the balcony's sterile white rail, his eyes darting across the once beautiful vista, seemingly with a life of their own. He shook his head, trying futilely to clear the fog that had settled over his mind.

"What are they asking for?" Tali asked, inquisitively.

"Nothing important. It isn't what they're asking for that's the problem, it's the fact that after they saw how eagerly I was giving away the seat, they're trying to seem as if they're holding some cards, now. I'm honestly not sure if this position will be the death of me."

"What about the other Councilor, the Russian one?" Miranda asked. Surely Anderson wasn't alone in this. She respected the man, although she had never met him in person. Granted, his reputation as a soldier had far exceeded his reputation as a politician, but from what she had heard in the news reports, he was handling things better than he gave himself credit for, especially after the death of a fellow councilor.

"Kuznetsov? He's holding up better than I am, but neither of us were cut out to be politicians. We're just stumbling blindly through all the crap. We're both way out of our league here. But I don't think either of us would be able to handle anything at all if one of us left, so I guess I have to put my retirement on hold." He looked up at the three once again, and Tali finally noticed just how sick the Councilor really looked. His face was emaciated, the pale skin seemingly plastered against his skull, his cheekbones protruding. He seemed little more than a skeleton. Dark lines stretched underneath his eyes, and his shoulders sagged downward, seemingly unable to support even their own meager weight. He still leaned heavily against the wall, his legs ready to slight out from under him at any given time.

"How long have you been drinking?" she asked, trying not to convey her apprehension at his condition.

"It's been at least two years now. But before, it was just a beer here, a bottle of wine there. Once Shepard died, though, that was when everything went to hell. Everybody was hiding underground; all the politicians said it was a threat from a galaxy wide terrorist organization that was organizing attacks on every colonized world. When the people started coming back from hidden shelters, they didn't know what was going on, and the people who stayed above ground seemed confused, like they didn't know what was going on. That is, assuming they hadn't already killed themselves. The entire galaxy came out of the windowless shelters that were built by the governments of every world, and nobody knew what had happened. We didn't tell them anything, there was too much pressure from the world governments; they didn't want to create a mass hysteria that would come with the revealing of a God race, even if they were destroyed. So everyone turned to the Council for guidance, and we couldn't rebuild all that was lost in the Reaper War. Then even the Citadel began to fall apart, and when things go bad, the leaders are always blamed. With humans helming the galactic government, our entire species was blamed for everything. Nothing like this ever happened when there was an interspecies Council, so the entire situation the galaxy is left in is humanity's doing. Some part of me can't help but feel that they're right, that I'm not doing enough. I tried to forget what they were saying, I tried to drown myself in that damn alcohol!" he almost yelled, gesturing wildly at the bottle still held in Garrus's taloned clutches.

Anderson didn't hear the shot. As the apex of his wild gesticulations, he collapsed suddenly. At first, it appeared the despairing Councilor had simply collapsed, his brain on fire from the alcohol that coursed through his system, the dregs of the poison now dampening the floor where Garrus had dropped the bottle in surprise at David Anderson's sudden fall. Then they saw the small pool of blood that began to blanket his short-cropped hair, matting it against the sweat beads that still clung desperately to his forehead. The wound from the bullet that had just ripped away the man's life was so small, it seemed almost inconsequential. It had barely disturbed a hair upon his head. The blood that flowed smoothly from the diminutive hole like a river glinted in the light, almost seeming to sparkle. Before the panic set in, Tali couldn't help but notice how surreal the scene was, everything seeming to move in slow motion as Anderson's glazed eyes stared outwards, more serene than she had ever seen them before.

To her left, she heard Garrus curse as he dove underneath the balcony, sheltered by the overhang, already disengaging the magnetic clasps of his sniper rifle, fumbling as he tried desperately to wrench the weapon from its position against his back. Miranda was crouched down, pressed up against the wall, already scanning over the balcony for their unseen assailant. Suddenly, Tali's mind kicked in. She could feel the adrenaline begin to course through her veins, liquid fire igniting every nerve ending. The room suddenly snapped into crystal clear focus. She impulsively leapt underneath the balcony, instinctively grabbing the shotgun that was suspended at her back. She looked across the Presidium, business man, politicians, the upper crust of society walking calmly, weaving to and fro, lost amidst the swarm. The heard beneath was blissfully unaware of the death of one of the most influential denizens of the galaxy barely twenty feet above their bobbing heads. No one had heard the shot from the silenced gun.

Next to her, Garrus saw her pointing her shotgun across the seemingly endless gap to the balcony across the lake. He quickly pushed the barrel of the weapon into the ground, shaking his head. "Too far. If you hit anything it'll be a bystander," he whispered in a hushed voice, the strain and fear evident in his eyes, the pupils dilated. His mandibles twitched back and forth, seemingly of their own accord. Tali quickly reattached the gun to her back, instead pulling out the pistol she kept at her side. She squinted across the divide, trying to make out anything beyond her polarized visor. Shadows played across the opposite balcony, but the phantom that had stood there not thirty seconds before seemingly had disappeared off the map, evaporated through the walls.

Garrus tore his eye from the scope of his Viper angrily, waving Miranda over. Crouching low, she scurried towards the two, making sure she didn't put so much as a finger over the lip of the overhang. "I can't see him. Whoever pulled the trigger is gone."

"What do we do?" asked Miranda, for once at a loss, the ideas that so often came to her completely absent.

"I don't know. Run, I guess. Whoever did this is gone, and we can't stay here," Garrus said hesitantly, not even sure if he wanted to follow his own plan.

"Why would anybody do this?" Tali asked, an anger Garrus was unaccustomed to hearing from the usually composed Quarian present in her tone.

"I don't know. Maybe he was going after us and missed."

"No, that can't be right. The bullet was from a Widow sniper rifle, and it is a perfectly placed lethal hit. We were all standing perfectly still. He could have hit any one of us frighteningly easily," Miranda said, peering out at the body of the man they had been speaking with less than a minute before. He would never speak again. His empty gaze seemed almost melancholy, regretting all he had not done, not accomplished.

"All right, there haven't been any more shots, and we can't see anyone else with a gun. We need to make a run for it, now. On the off chance that someone was aiming for us, they might be coming up here now to get a better shot. Let's just get the hell out before we get a firefight," As he spoke, Tali saw Garrus tense next to her, getting ready to follow his own advice, preparing for the short sprint across the empty floor. She held out her hand, stopping him momentarily. He looked impatiently at the young Quarian, silently urging her to explain what was more important than their escape.

"What about Anderson?" Garrus hesitated, looking guiltily at the fallen Captain, the once great N7 soldier. He was proposing to abandon him, left lying desolately, fallen on the cold floor as his blood slowly stained the white tile. Then Garrus's rationality once again began to function.

"We need to leave him here. We can't tell the guards about it, either. The shooter may have been a plant in C-Sec. We can't trust anyone here. Anderson's already gone, and we can't help him now. He's beyond help. A shot like that, there could have been a medical staff on hand and it would've been too late. But we need to stop talking and move!" Before either of the two women had a chance to ask another question, Garrus began to sprint forward, his head tucked underneath his arm, sheltering himself from a shot that did not come. He began to shift nervously as the door at the end slowly slid open, knowing he was a perfect target. He dashed through as the smallest gap appeared, barely able to squeeze through as the door finally slid into the wall.

As Tali watched Garrus arrive through the door unscathed, she stood up and began to sprint after him, crouching low. She arrived at the door before it began to close again, and pressed herself up against the other side, staying out of view of the balcony. Miranda arrived right behind her. She didn't pause to stop, continuing to charge down the deserted corridor, her heavy footsteps creating echoes that resonated throughout the hall. Tali and Garrus quickly followed suit, barreling after her in a mad dash to reach the safety of their shuttle, where not every footstep was that of an assassin, every shadow belonging to a killer.

Tali ran down the stairs into the Presidium proper, barely noticing where her feet where taking her. She saw Miranda and Garrus enter into the constantly moving throngs, blending into the crowd. She let them move ahead, not wanting to endanger their lives. A human and Turian could disappear on the Citadel easily, lost amidst their own kind. As a Quarian, she stuck out like a sore thumb. If whoever had murdered the Councilor was after them, she would be the first to go, the most obvious target.

Far ahead of her, she saw Garrus looking around wildly, wondering where she had gone. Tali tried to fade into the background. She knew the way to the ship; she could make it on her own. Tali shook her ahead anxiously as he spotted her, turning back to rejoin her. Dismayed, she saw that he could not be swayed, and instead quickly walked forward, paying no attention as she walked past, trying to pretend she didn't know him. The ruse was broken when Garrus, surprised at her lack of acknowledgment, hurried next to her, grabbing her around the forearm.

"What the hell are you doing?" he asked angrily, trying to mask the fear that he had felt when she had not been behind them.

"Trying to avoid getting you shot. If you haven't noticed, I'm a lot more conspicuous than the two of you. It's not hard to find the Quarian in the crowd up here, but a human and a Turian are much more difficult to distinguish from all the other ones up here," mustering the same anger that Garrus had just displayed.

"Okay, that's absolutely stupid," Garrus said quietly as they resumed their brisk walk towards the elevator to the Wards. "First of all, if people are taking shots at you, don't you think it would be a lot easier to survive it if you have a couple next to you shooting back? You're screwed on your own. Secondly, when you weren't with us back there, you scared the living hell out of me, okay? Don't ever do that again."

Tali glared at him through her mask, defiant. "Don't treat me like I'm a damn child! I know what I'm doing!"

"You can be so thick sometimes! This isn't about you!" Garrus said, clearly agitated.

"No? Well then, who is it about? A couple seconds ago you were saying how worried you were that I couldn't take of myself! Is this because I'm a Quarian, or because I'm a girl?"

"What? Are you accusing me of being a racist? When have I ever discriminated against anything?" he blustered.

"I didn't say consciously! But you're just following all the stereotypes blindly," Tali said, softly, beginning to feel slightly guilty for laying into Garrus. "I'm sorry, you didn't do anything. I guess I'm just scared too." She apprehensively looked over as she said this, half-expecting to see a stranger with a gun pointed at the back of their heads. All she saw were the continuous streams of the galaxies as elite as they brushed past each other, all avoiding Tali's gaze, not wanting to look upon her. She looked down sadly. Her people would never be accepted here, not anywhere.

Garrus was speaking again. It took Tali a second to register what it was that he was saying. "…I'll try to watch what I'm saying. Sorry, I'd just prefer not to end up with a bullet through my head. An explosion now, maybe. Explosions have style," Garrus chuckled softly at his own joke. Tali continued walking, not finding much humor in their current predicament.

The elevator closed behind them, and Tali let out a sigh of relief in spite of herself. The faded, darkened glass descended once again, leaving them alone in the docking bay. After the bustling of the Presidium, and the music that still blared as they walked past Flux in the Wards, the silence seemed both comforting and oppressive. The empty, echoing port promised both solitude for themselves, as well as unnamed figures that could be lying in wait in the multitude of shadows.

"I don't like being out in the open out here. It isn't secure enough," Miranda said, quickly striding over to the shuttle door. It slid open, and the three crowded in, shoulders brushing as the door once again closed behind them and the decontamination process began.

"We really need to hope we don't get another person in here," Garrus said. "I think we'd run out of oxygen before the cycle finished."

"Could you try being a little more serious, Turian?" Miranda asked, agitated, and Tali thought she even looked a little sad. "One of the greatest humans in the galaxy has just been murdered! Could you try to show at least some respect?"

"Do you know how many people I've seen die?" he shouted back, beating his fist against the wall, leaving a small dent in the corrugated metal. "If I mourned every single one of them, I'd spend my entire life in a perpetual breakdown! I've seen my friends shot down in cold blood. I've seen people lying on the ground with their stomachs cut open and all their entrails completely removed for trade on the black market. If I stayed serious all the time, this is what would happen! Everything I've seen in my life would finally get to me, don't you understand that? Or has Cerberus taught you that all you need to do is respect the dead, not give them a single ounce of sympathy or regret?"

The interior door slid upwards, but the three stood rooted to the spot in the small chamber, Tali staring incredulously at Garrus, just as shocked at the outburst as Miranda seemed to be, her jaw hanging slightly open. Garrus glared down at her, seeming to have grown several feet as he stood towering over the others. After another moment, he stormed through the door that led to the cockpit. As Tali passed the door, she looked through the small glass window into the small passageway that connected the cockpit to the rest of the shuttle. Inside the small room, she saw Garrus sitting with his back against the wall, his head between his hands.

The officer saw the three hurry past him, a human, Turian, even a Quarian. The guns that they carried openly across their backs didn't escape his notice. He had forwarded the other Councilor's message to Anderson several minutes ago after Kuznetsov himself had not been able to reach him. There had been no response. Without a sound, he turned and slipped up the stairs to where the Councilor would pass the time trying to relax, although he never succeeded.

The human C-Sec official saw the door to the balcony that he had visited many times before. Something didn't seem right this time, however, as if something heavy loomed overhead, simply waiting to fall. He remembered the three who had stood out among the crowd, the images of their faces burned into his head, the result of intense training for his esteemed position in the Academy.

The door slid open, revealing the grisly sight. Anderson was collapsed upon the floor, his face devoid of any color or emotion. Flowers of blood blossomed underneath him, stretching out tendrils that slid over the smooth surface of the floor. He stood still, horrified by the image before him. Slowly, barely able to comprehend what he was seeing, he raised his omnitool, calling for back-up, as well as investigation and medical teams, although he already knew the Councilor was behind help. Somebody was going to have Hell to pay for the atrocity before him, and he had good idea who.

**A/N: So, what did you think? Is After the Reapers shaping up the way you always hoped it would? Yes, no, feel free to free either way. I feed off your feedback. (Hopefully not literally, that would be strange.)**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: As should be obvious based on the fact that I'm on this site, I love to write. But I feel I must say beforehand, this had been my favorite chapter to write so far. I sincerely hope it is as enjoyable to read. As always, please please please read, enjoy, and please critique. I love construction criticism. After all, how else does one improve? Or if you simply want to encourage me or shower me with praise, that is also greatly appreciated ;). **

Chapter 10

Credits

"Did you get in?"

"Just about," Tali said, her eyes locked onto the faint glow that emitted from the omnitool in front of her.

She had already failed twice, her thoughts always shifting back to the body of the Councilor, still warm upon the sterile white floor, seemingly slumbering if not for the ceaseless stream of blood that flowed smoothly in unbroken rivulets down his face. Some of the small streams flowed into his eyes which did not blink to wipe it away.

She tore the thoughts away again, barely managing to rectify a mistake she had been about to make, connecting a wire to the wrong circuits. Tali shook her head, trying to erase the morbid picture from her mind. This wouldn't have been difficult at any other time, not if she could focus. The system was even more mundane than she had expected, the Eclipse clearly thinking their process of canceling the accounts of members who were killed or left before their untimely demise would be sufficient.

Finally, after what seemed like an hour, Tali finally managed to override the final connection, private message links beginning to litter the small holographic screen.

"I've broken the system," she said, her relief evident as she sat back into the hard wooden seat, a muffled sigh escaping through her lips. Miranda walked over from the other end of the cramped passenger hold, leaning over Tali's shoulder as she bent forward once again.

"Can you see what that one is?" Miranda asked, indicating a message link between two of the mercenary leaders entitled simply "Business Transaction." As Tali opened the feed, Miranda silently thanked whoever it was that had made the page a shared site to anyone with the proper access codes, links to all the different messages among the Eclipse elite listed chronologically down the page.

"Whoever planned this design either didn't want to spend money, or was far too confident in their abilities to keep outsiders out," Tali said, scorning how easily she was able to access the link to the full communication, not a single firewall in place, no further security measures to speak of.

Tali read down the exchange, her eyes widening further with each passing line. She saw Miranda stiffen beside her, tense with excitement. All thoughts of Anderson were driven to the back of their minds with the new information, if only temporarily.

"Mr. Rowe, set a course for Illium," Miranda said, foot already tapping with impatience. "And forget protocols. If we aren't there in less than twelve hours," she left the threat to hang in the air, unfinished. Rowe could fill in the rest for himself.

"Yes Ma'am," he responded quickly, not wanting to solicit her anger. Angling the ships thrusters slightly, the shuttle began a slow, graceful arc as Rowe's deft hands steered it towards the Widow system's only mass relay.

"I should go tell Garrus," Miranda said absently, beginning to walk slowly towards the connecting hallway, where he still sat isolated. Tali held out an arm to stop her progress.

"That probably isn't the best idea right now. If anything, I should go," her tone dispelling any doubts that it was a request. In response, Miranda simply sat back down, mind elsewhere, already beginning to formulate a plan for their robbery.

Garrus saw the door slide upwards, saw Tali walk inside, slowly sitting down beside him. He turned to face her expectantly, but at first was met with only silence. He turned back to face the opposite wall, not in the mood to disturb the peaceful calm, but as he did so, Tali began to speak. "We're going to Illium."

"I take it that means you got in?"

"After a long, slow process rife with failures, I did. I guess it's just another of the many reasons you worship me."

"What's the plan?" Garrus asked, irritated. He didn't feel like talking now. He silently urged her to get to the point.

"The Eclipse completed a business deal with a wealthy Asari. Apparently, she hired them as personal bodyguards while she orchestrated some of her own business deals. When the time came to pay up, she ran because she couldn't afford the price. The Eclipse are now planning a reunion, they're sending back the bodyguards she hired to collect the sums. One way or another, those mercenaries are coming back with the credits, and they weren't cheap. About 35 million, I hear. That should more than cover what we need."

"Okay, so know I understand where we can get the money, but what's the actual plan?" Had she really only come here to tell him that the Eclipse were out to exact their sick revenge on some clueless entrepreneur?

"Never mind, I don't care. Call me when we get there."

"Will you stop feeling sorry for yourself?" Tali burst out angrily. "We all saw Anderson die, but we have to keep moving. We can't bring Shepard back if you're sitting here wallowing in self pity!"

"Did you hear what she said to me?" Garrus asked defensively.

"Miranda was sick of you acting like you didn't give a damn about anything!"

"Miranda doesn't understand what it's like to be in my position. As far as I know, most of the people she's seen die where killed by her own gun."

"She isn't Cerberus anymore!" Tali exclaimed angrily, once again unsure why she thought this.

"How do you know?" Garrus's voice was soft, not accusing, seemingly unsure himself.

"I don't. I just think that if she was still with Cerberus, she either would have told us and asked us to work with them again, or we'd already be in the custody of the Illusive Man."

"She could be trying to get more of Shepard's old team on board here before we find out one way or the other."

"You may be right, but what other choices do we have?"

"We could always move on. When we land, we leave, get a shuttle, and you could go back to the Quarian colony, and I could figure something else out." Garrus knew he could never follow his own advice, ever since he had met Shepard he had changed, and as long as there was a chance he could come back again, he would be there to see it.

"No. I had no life there. My only life anymore is with Shepard, and even if we are chasing a false hope out here, or Miranda will betray us, I can't just give up on this."

"I'm sorry, Tali." The apology took the Quarian off guard.

"Why?"

"For everything. I've been attacking you this whole time. You didn't do anything. I just…" He stopped, looking down, unable to finish the statement. He didn't need to.

"You don't know why people like Captain Anderson, like Shepard die." Tali looked over at him, her eyes shining like silver orbs behind her mask, just as the stars shone brightly outside the shuttle.

"Yeah, the good die young. And then people like Saleon and The Illusive Man who make a business killing people are allowed to live. How long does that give us? Am I the good or the bad?" He tried to make the question sound casual, important, but his eyes betrayed his true purpose. Garrus was haunted.

"What do you think?" Tali asked, sighing. "Does anybody really know? I've done my share of bad things; I've killed just as many people as you have, Garrus. The question is whether or not your intent was good."

"I just don't know anymore. I've tried telling myself I've don't things for the greater good, but Sidonis, what if he changed? I murdered him in cold blood, revenge. What makes me any different from the people I've killed? How am I any better?"

"Because of what you do afterwards. Do you think Saleon felt any regrets after he hacked his victims to pieces?"

"That's all well and good, but I killed Sidonis, I pulled the trigger when he was defenseless, saw the bullet rip open the back of his head. How can I say that it was justice? I can't even tell myself that."

"No, you can't. But you've regretted killing him for over a year. You have to move on, do better. Try starting here." She stood up, extending her gloved hand. Garrus looked back at the wall, sighed, and took her hand. Bracing himself against the wall, Garrus grunted as he pulled himself up. As Tali wordlessly made for the door, Garrus called after. She turned before the door was able to slide away, waiting expectantly.

"Thanks. I forgot how much I hate self-pity. You've saved me from having to kill myself to restore my honor."

"It's good to hear you chuckle again. Especially when I'm not the butt of your jokes," Tali said sarcastically.

"Well, you taught me my lesson on the Citadel awhile back. I try to offend anyone who carries a shotgun."

"Good thing, too. You'll live longer."

She once again walked forward. Garrus watched her exit the small passage, and followed her out somewhat reluctantly.

Miranda looked up from her musings as Garrus and Tali rejoined her in the room.

"It took you awhile to tell him we were going to Illium," she said humorlessly.

"Yes, well, with Garrus you never know when a simple statement is going to turn into a reflection of the state of one's inner soul. I feel much enlightened," Tali said, narrowing her eyes underneath her helmet, the expression lost on Miranda.

"Okay, if you can stop screwing around for one moment, I think you may just be interested in hearing that I've come up with a plan," Miranda said, agitated.

"Well then, let's hear it. Probably better if we all know what we're getting into here," Garrus said, the slightest hint of anger towards the human still noticeable in his face, how he avoided her gaze.

"I'm sure Tali has already told you what we found on the Asari, who unfortunately finds herself unable to pay off her debts." Garrus nodded, already fairly certain what the plan was.

"Well, the Eclipse decided to send the two bodyguards she hired to collect the sums. She already saw what they were capable of; it's some pretty smart intimidation tactics on Eclipse's part," she added, unable to hide the note of respect she held for the scheme. "But, we let them obtain the credits while we set an ambush."

"How do we know they'll actually take the credits directly on a chit, and not pass them through a private connection?" Tali asked, already noticing a flaw in the plan.

"Because she's already admitted she can't afford the price. They assume she'll have all the funds on our, but if she passes them through a private account, she could deceive them into thinking she has all 35 million, while not sending the full amount. There's no deception if they take the credits directly. So after they've done that, they'll take an isolated route back, easier to make sure they haven't been followed. There aren't too many of those on Illium, most designs are built to avoid back alleys, but a couple of the older designs haven't been renovated recently, so a couple do exist. We'll have to wait there until they return with the chit. The rest is self-explanatory."

"So, in other words, we just jump them and steal them? Sounds too easy, and stuff like this almost never goes according too plan," Garrus said incredulously.

"And you seem to have made quite a few assumptions about exactly what they'll be doing. If they do one thing that you don't expect, this entire operation will go crashing down around us, and organics have make a habit of doing everything according too plan," Tali added.

"When I first joined Cerberus years ago, I might have been naïve enough to agree with you on this, but I've spent years studying and observing these same types of operations, and they almost never deviate from that basic format. I made my career studying the way these things work, and trying to avoid falling into the same basic traps that every other organization seemed to gladly stumble into."

"Wait, if you knew the pattern and worked to avoid it, how do you know these mercenary groups won't do the same?" Tali inquired.

"There are two basic reasons: the first being that the Eclipse isn't especially interested in far-reaching schemes. They only exist to make money, whereas Cerberus was created to further an ideal. A failure on the Eclipse's part might lead to the loss of some credits. On Cerberus's part it could lead to setbacks that could take a year or more to overcome, so we had more of an interest in assuring that every mission was a success, which we did by deviating from normal, predictable procedures. The other reason being that, as most members are simple mercenaries, they are considered expendable. At Cerberus, however, every recruit is considered an important asset, so we have to take more precautions to best ensure their survival."

"Okay, but everything with this scenario seems very risky," Garrus replied.

"You've made that abundantly clear," Miranda spat out through grated teeth. "And if you have a solution that can get us at least ten million credits with no chance of failure, I'll be glad to consider it." Only silence met her latest remark, so she continued, "Fantastic. So I recommend you get settled and prepare what you need before we land on Illium.

Garrus was crouched low behind an old dumpster in the darkened alley, Tali sitting close beside him. He cradled his assault rifle in the crook of his arm, ready for use at a moment's notice. Tali, meanwhile, fiddled absentmindedly with the magnetic clasps on her shotgun, her legs pulled up to her chest. Just out of side, around a curve in the small pathway, Miranda stood, loitering by the wall, seemingly waiting for a business meeting to any passersby, not that she had seen any this far off the beaten path. It was just as well, better not to raise any suspicions.

So far, everything had gone according to plan. They had stood unobtrusively by the entrance to the alleyway, succeeding in escaping the attention of the two Eclipse mercenaries who slunk out cautiously, looking for any possible adversaries among the Asari who bustled back and forth before them. They had followed the two at a distance for awhile, until confident they had found their target. The poor woman had nearly fainted on the spot, but wasn't given the chance before the two mercenaries grabbed her none too gently by the arms and dragged her off to a secluded area, cordoned off by electronic police tape. The Asari who had been standing guard took paid no heed to the pleadings of the terrified businesswoman, nor the two burly humans that dragged her away, one with a gun subtly pressed to her stomach. Just another example of the corruption that ran rampant throughout Illium's law enforcement.

Satisfied with the progress, Miranda had urged them to return to the alley to wait. Tali had followed, more than a little reluctant to leave behind the Asari to the cruel machinations of the mercs. As they left the scene, Tali swore she heard the sounds of muffled screams.

Now she sat in this long abandoned alleyway, trying to take her mind off all the thoughts that plagued her. Try as she might, she couldn't forget the screams she thought she had heard that played through her head as if in a dream.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Garrus tapping urgently on her shoulder, motioning to be silent. His hands tightened their grip around the assault rifle, his finger tensed and ready on the trigger. Then Tali heard the sound, hushed whispers echoing from further down the alley. She could not hear all that was said, but she could guess the meaning based on the words that stood out. "Fun…too easy...stupid Asari…boss'll be pleased…" She wondered what had become of the businesswoman.

The two men they had seen earlier suddenly strode past the dumpster behind which Garrus and Tali were hidden. Tali was suddenly glad she had the presence of mind to turn off the sound emitters on her suit as she felt her breath rush out in quick gasps. They did not notice the two as they continued to work, absorbed in their hushed conversation. Tali slowly raised her shotgun, squinting as she held it up to her eye, aiming the barrel straight at the back of the head of the human on the left. He continued to walk, unaware that his death sat curled up not ten feet behind him. She saw Garrus lift his rifle beside her, duplicating her motion.

The mercenaries rounded the bend, where Miranda stepped out to meet them, taking their eyes off the Quarian and Turian who lay in wait.

"Well," said one, his words slurred as he looked down the figure of the woman who stood before him. "Ain't this our lucky day?"

"I think we got finished with that Asari whore back there a little sooner than expected, we deserve a reward," he spat making sure the final word came out as vulgar as he could make it. Let this pretty little thing know what was in store. That would make it all the more fun.

"Well then, I hope you too have had your shots," Miranda couldn't help but smile slightly at her own comment, as she began to turn away, making sure they didn't see as she opened her omnitool, trained fingers flying quickly over the icons, as she selected her overload tool. She turned back around to face them, and as they saw their shields flicker and die, they realized too late what was coming. They didn't even have time to speak before a hail of bullets ripped them to pieces, the sounds muffled by small silencers on the ends of the weapons.

As Miranda began to search the bodies for the credit chit that she knew had to be there, the warm blood flowing smoothly over her hands, sticking underneath her fingernails, Tali and Garrus walked over to join her.

Garrus leaned against the wall and sighed as Miranda stood back up again, trying not to stain her black dress. Best not to let anyone on as to what had taken place. She held a credit chit in her fist. A quick scan revealed the amount, 30 million credits, and she silently nodded her head, allowing the slightest smile to creep across her face.

"Well I'll be damned," Garrus muttered. "For once, something actually went right."

Tali stood at Garrus's side, doing her best to not look at the bodies that lay ripped apart on the white floors. "Let's get out of here," she said apprehensively. "You never know when someone's going to show up."

"Good idea," Miranda said approvingly. "Come on, let's go back this way," she said, indicating the path behind her. "The foot traffic isn't as heavy back there, and I'd prefer as few people see us as possible."

They turned and trudged down the alley, emerging outside in a thin street. A few Asari passed the entrance, but none seemed to pay any heed to the new arrivals.

Unable to contain himself any longer, Garrus finally asked under his breath, "So, how much did we get?"

He saw Miranda mouth back 30 million and let out a low whistle. "Damn, well I think some congratulations are in order here, Miranda. The plan worked like a damn charm."

"And here I was thinking you still wanted to make a voodoo doll of me and stab it full of pins."

"What?" Garrus and Tali both asked, confused.

"Never mind. Human thing. I meant I thought you were still fuming over the situation earlier."

"Well I was, but to be honest, that amount of money can kind of make you forget about grudges for awhile."

Suddenly, without warning, Garrus pitched forward unmoving onto the pavement. His eyes gazed out blankly, a trail of saliva hanging from the corner of his mouth.

"Damn it!" Miranda shouted as she pushed Tali to the side, diving in the opposite direction herself.

As Tali hit the ground, she saw Miranda slide smoothly across the floor, but before she was able to scramble behind cover, she too went limp. Tali ripped out her shotgun once again, panic setting in. What was happening? She saw Garrus still laying perfect still, her mind too fevered to note the lack of blood on his still breathing body. She sat still, crouched behind a small box, too small to provide any adequate protection. She waited for the world to go black around her, but the moment never came. The Asari who had been walking on the now deserted street had fled, none calling for help for fear of retribution. Tali was on her own.

The sound of light footsteps took Tali by surprise. She had been expecting the heavy tread of hard boots on the floor, anything other than the lithe young Asari that stepped smoothly around the box Tali hid behind. She held a pistol firmly, its barrel pointed at Tali's heart. She thought of her chances in a fight, but all thoughts fled when she saw two more Asari approach, lifting Garrus and Miranda's limp forms into the air with their biotics. Blue light crackled ominously around the one who looked down at Tali as well. The Quarian stared upwards, unable to make out her aggressor's face through the polarized visor behind which it was hidden.

"Stand up slowly, drop your gun," the voice ordered. A voice Tali knew, had heard many times before, back on the Normandy before its destruction. Liara.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: I'd like to thank everyone who has reviewed thus far, you're what's making this enjoyable to write, but I'd like to extend a special thanks to KoKoTheBunga for multiple reviews. But I'd like to sat, even if you haven't reviewed, the fact that you're reading this in the first place is awesome. So keep being awesome, keep reading! And if you have the energy, click that Review button at the bottom of the page. And as always, I hope you enjoy Chapter 11.**

Chapter 11

Discovering Atlantic

They walked down one empty corridor after another. Tali waited for someone, anyone to come, to see her plight. She couldn't run; she dared not turn back to look, but she knew instinctively that the pistol was trained at her back, between her shoulder blades. She would not get far.

After what seemed like an eternity of wandering the eerily desolate passages, they finally arrived outside a small apartment. Braving a glance over her shoulder, Tali saw Liara looking back nervously, making sure they hadn't been followed. Tali reluctantly stepped into the small apartment. "Well, it seems you've downsized. Maybe without all that high security you used to have, the Shadow Broker will finally get around to killing you. Or is that too much to hope for?" Tali asked angrily.

"Look, Tali, I know you probably hate me know," Liara begin as she walked over to a small couch behind a wooden table.

"I suppose it took all your information brokering talents to figure that one out," Tali interrupted, the spite clear in her voice. "I'm sure you needed to utilize all your numerous contacts as well. Now tell me, who bought you out? I never pegged you as one to abduct and kill your former friends. I saved you from being shot through the head on multiple occasions!"

"Kill? Not at all, look at Garrus, and the Cerberus woman. Her name is escaping me right now. Oh, but that's not the point. Look, their chests are moving. We hit them with tranquilizers."

"Oh, well then, that makes everything okay then, doesn't it? You kidnapped us, but you didn't kill us, no you only knocked us unconscious! I'm sure we can all just get along, settle our differences over a drink!" Tali was shouting. She hoped her words stung Liara as much as her betrayal stung Tali. She wished she could see her face, hidden behind the mask. Tali had always hated masks.

"It's not as bad as you think," Liara tried to speak.

"Of course not. Pointing the gun at my back, that was all just a game. It never really meant anything at all," Tali cut Liara off once again.

"It isn't as big of a deal as you would think."

"Well then, please enlighten me. I would love to hear this excuse."

"The gun doesn't even have a heat sink. You were never in any real danger."

"Why should I believe a word you're saying?"

In response, Liara simply picked up the pistol that lay before her on a small table, raised it to the side of her head, and pulled the trigger. The only sound that met her action was a faint clicking as the gun refused to fire. She set it back on the table, leaving herself unharmed.

"No, before you interrupt me again, will you please give me the opportunity to explain myself?" Liara asked, almost desperately. Tali walked into the room, sitting down in a chair across from where the Asari sat. Her silence was taken as acquiescence, and Liara continued.

"I don't mean any harm here," Liara said, almost certain she heard a derisive snort from the Quarian across the room. Pausing only for a moment, she carried on. "This is the safest way I had of contacting you. I've long since given up information broking, as you can see by my living in this hovel, but the Shadow Broker isn't very forgiving. He's had people after me ever since I landed back on Illium. He even had a contact put my name in a file in the planet's records that prevents me from being able to leave this planet. Illium is my prison, nothing more, nothing less."

"Why didn't you just send us a message, or some kind of contact that indicated you wanted to speak with us?" Tali asked, struggling to control the anger that bubbled up inside her.

"I couldn't. Believe me, if there had been any safer way, I would have done it. But if I tried to send a message, the chances of it being intercepted were astronomical. Any other form of contact could lead the Shadow Broker straight to me. He's already found me several times. I've only been in this apartment for three days. My last one was burned to the ground, and I barely managed to escape." Liara rolled back the sleeve of her shirt, exposing her bare forearm, the skin burned away almost up to her elbow. She grimaced in pain as she once again hid the scarring from view under her sleeve.

"How would this be any different?" Tali asked, but this time her barely restrained rage and been replaced by incredulity, even a little sympathy. "Why would kidnapping us be any better, what with all the witnesses?"

"None of the witnesses would be able to identify us, not with the polarized masks," Liara responded, gesturing slightly at the mask that sat unused on the table beside the pistol with her unburned arm. "Anywhere else in the galaxy, except for maybe Omega, the kidnapping wouldn't have gone unnoticed, either, but unfortunately on Illium, this kind of thing is common place. Most of the Asari out there thought this was just another business deal gone wrong. They won't tell anyone, because they see something like it almost every day. They just clear out because they don't want to be caught in the crossfire if something goes bad."

"Why would you tranquilize Miranda and Garrus, but not me, though? Wouldn't that look suspicious?"

"Not at all. Most of them would have thought you were just a slave here. I wish I could do something, but the fact of the matter is there's no shortage of Quarian slave labor here. Generally, in these business deals, credits aren't the only things that change hands. None of the bystanders out there saw that we were using tranquilizers. It would look suspicious if I shot you as well. Everyone would see that as a waste of a perfectly good slave," Liara spat out, seemingly disgusted by the word. "Not only that, though. Even if I did shoot you with a tranquilizer, it would still breach your suit. The tranquilizer itself might have triggered an allergic reaction in your bloodstream. What would happen if you died from infection? And even if it wouldn't kill you, I don't want to pile a fever onto troubles I'm sure you already have. God knows I wouldn't want anything more on my shoulders right now."

Liara ended her speech and sat back into the couch. Tali finally noticed how tired she actually looked. She gingerly laid her arm across her lip, wincing at the movement. Suddenly she looked back up across the room at Tali, looking as if she had just thought of something. "When Garrus and Miranda wake up, I think it's best if we don't tell them I was the one to knock them out."

Tali nodded slowly. "I still don't know why I'm trusting you in the first place. Everything in me is screaming to run. I've been going against my instincts a lot lately, though. And keep in mind, I'm only giving you the benefit of the doubt because of the years that we've worked together. But if you do one more thing like this, that trust is gone."

"Fair enough."

"I do have one last question though."

"What?"

"How does the Shadow Broker keep finding you?"

"I have no idea," Liara said, hanging her head, "but he'll keep going on until one us is dead. The way things are going right now for me, it seems he'll be the one to get me." She paused for a moment, drifting into her own thoughts before continuing. "They should be waking up soon, and when they do, there's something else I need to tell the three of you. Unfortunately, I don't think you're going to like it."

As if on cue, Garrus began to stir from where he had been laid on the floor. He blinked his eyes open, darting around, trying to remember where he was. Fearful comprehension began to dawn his eyes as he frantically searched for the assault rifle that had been removed, lying beside Liara's pistol on the table, along with all their other weapons.

He leapt to his feet, preparing for a fight, when he saw Liara and Tali sitting in the room, both looking at him. A perplexed expression crossed his face. "Just what in Hell is going on here?"

"The Eclipse had cameras planted on the mercenaries you killed back there. A couple more came to take you out after they saw what happened," Liara quickly lied.

"If they were there to take us out, why just knock us unconscious?" Garrus asked skeptically. "Wouldn't it be easier just to kill us on the spot?"

"I don't know for sure, but I imagine if you were easy targets back there, they would have tried to take you alive so they could have their way with you. Especially you, Garrus. I wouldn't be surprised if they hired the Shadow Broker to find your true identity after you escaped from their clutches two years ago. If you were still alive, they could have taken you back and had their way with you. It looks like I got there just in time."

"Wait, how did you know about the Eclipse mercenaries we killed?" Tali interjected.

"I've been keeping an eye on your progress since you landed on Illium, luckily for you," Liara answered.

"Here are your guns, by the way," she said, picking up first the assault, then the sniper rifle with her good arm and handed them to Garrus. "I thought it would be better if we took off your weapons so when you woke up you didn't just start shooting. From what it looked like, that was probably a good idea."

Garrus took the weapons gratefully, reattaching them to his armor. "How did you end up back on Illium?" Garrus asked suddenly. "When you rejoined with Shepard, I thought you said you were leaving this place behind."

"I didn't exactly have a lot of options," Liara countered. "I'm still very young, and I had to move on. The world didn't stop because Shepard died. I came back here to make a living. After all, I did well for myself last time I was here. I tried to restart my career as information broker, but in my absence, The Shadow Broker had been preparing for what I now see was my inevitable return. I foolishly returned to my old place of business, and he had mercenaries waiting for me. I barely managed to escape with my life. Ever since, I've been in hiding, although I don't seem to be doing very well, the longest I've lasted in a single place is eight days. The only people who've been able to help me are Nyxeris, who contacted me shortly after I landed, and Nesera, who was a former client of mine, but was willing to aid me when she heard what was happening. Those were the other two you saw with me, Tali," Liara concluded.

"I recognize that name, Nyxeris," Garrus said, trying to solicit an answer to his unasked question.

"She used to be my secretary when you were going against the Collectors."

Garrus nodded, finally remembering where he had heard the name before.

As the three sat in silence, Miranda finally began to awake. Rather than panic as Garrus had done a few minutes before, she looked around the room, calmly assessing her surroundings. She took in Garrus and Tali, sitting calmly on two of the chairs that were arranged throughout the room. They were both looking at an Asari who sat on a couch across from them. She stood up slowly, her fears momentarily put at ease by Tali and Garrus's seeming calm.

"I'm glad to see you're awake," said the Asari. "I have something I need to tell the three of you."

Miranda, seeing all the chairs already taken, remained standing, her arms crossed over her chest. She tilted her head slightly to the side, indicating the Asari to go on.

"The Citadel has issued a warrant for your arrest. You're wanted for the murder of Councilor Anderson, a capital offense. They've already tagged your ship, and eventually it will lead them here. You have to get off Illium, now. But if you leave in your shuttle, they'll apprehend you. You need a new ship," Liara said.

Her words were met with stunned silence, before Garrus began to speak, angrily. "How can they accuse us of this? We worked with him first against Saren, then again when we fought the Reapers!"

"I agree you wouldn't make the most logical suspects, but you were seen running from the scene, and there wasn't any other evidence to indicate anyone else," Liara pointed out matter-of-factly.

"Well then, we're screwed. We've come all the way out here for nothing. Let's just take off now, maybe if we run it'll take them longer to find us. There's a lot of room to get lost in space," Garrus said, giving up."

"Look, if we do get caught and killed, I don't want to spend my last days hiding from the world. I've already done enough of that to last a lifetime," Tali countered. "I say we continue with our plans while we still can."

While they sat in silence, contemplating what should be their next step, one of the Asari who had been with Liara stepped in from an adjoining room, carrying a small scrap of paper.

"What are using paper for?" Tali asked curiously. She had never seen anyone use the ancient material. Everything that needed to be written down was no put in a file on an omnitool.

"Paper can come in very handy," Liara said as she read the message, a small smile crossing her face. "It can be left without a trace." As she said this, Liara picked up a small lighter from the table, and ignited a corner of the small parchment. She threw the paper into a small fireplace behind her. They all heard a faint crackling noise as the piece was engulfed in a small, mesmerizing flame. Suddenly, the fire ceased, all that was left of the message a small plume of smoke that spun lazily into the air before dissipating.

"What did it say?" asked Garrus.

"Well, I think you're next step has just been made easier. The two Eclipse you killed back there had their own ship. They left the access cards on their persons, and it seems Nesera liberated them for our personal use. It looks like the three of you can leave behind that shuttle of yours for bigger and better things. In addition, they won't be tracking this one, so you'll be clear of Citadel forces, at least temporarily. I'd still recommend staying under the radar, although knowing Garrus, that plan may not last very long."

The taxi shuttle landed at a small spaceport on the outskirts of the city, the buildings reaching to the heavens behind them. Beyond the walls that encircled the large city, the tops of trees in the numerous jungles stretched upward, trying to compete with the towering spires. The green leaves at the top of the canopy blurred together like the colors on a canvas from the height of the metropolis thousands of feet overhead.

Inside the walls, ships rested along the docks. Liara, Garrus, Tali, and Miranda threaded their way along the ledges and walkways, before they finally arrived at the port listed on the access cards. A space-craft sat calmly at the dock, its hull gleaming in the evening light, Illium's sun just beginning its slow decline to hide below the horizon. The word "Atlantic" was stenciled along the side in fresh blue paint. The front end tapered to a fine point, the cockpit nestled neatly behind the reinforced window that wrapped across the bow.

At that moment, Matt Rowe came jogging along the pier to where the other four stood, still inspecting the ship.

"Well, I got your message, got here as fast as I could," he breathed heavily. "I must admit, it's a damn sight nicer than that beater we've been cruising around in. No offense," he added quickly, seeing Miranda's scathing glare.

"Yeah," Garrus agreed. "It isn't any Normandy, though."

"Unfortunately, I never had the pleasure of piloting her," Rowe said, almost sadly.

"Speaking of that, do any of you know what happened to Joker?" Tali asked.

"The Alliance didn't ground him this time, but he hasn't really done anything of note. He's piloted a couple freighters hauling raw materials back and forth," Miranda answered.

"Knowing Joker, he's probably about to kill himself out of boredom. He never was one for the excessively mundane," Garrus stated, a small smile crossing his lips, looking more like a grimace.

"He's probably better off, too. He's not going to break nearly as many bones as he used to back in the good old days," Tali joked.

"Were the good old days really just a month or two ago?" Garrus wondered aloud.

"It seems like so much longer than that." Tali finished his statement. She turned to Liara, suddenly asking, "Why don't you come with us? You're going to be stuck here till you die if you don't, from what you've said."

"I wish I could, but if I left Nyxeris and Nesera here, the Shadow Broker will keep hunting them to get to me. I have to stay with them here. I should be getting back there now, anyway. I've been gone longer than I should. Good-bye, it's been a pleasure being able to speak with you. I hope I'm able to again."

As Liara slowly walked away without looking back, Miranda began to speak. "We need to move our supplies from the shuttle to the Atlantic. We should probably bring it over here before C-Sec can track us here. It's best if people don't see us moving the body."

"Where do we go after that?" Tali inquired.

"We have the credits we need to perform Lazarus. All we need is a good office, where we have access to high tech equipment. I do believe it is time we visited our favorite doctor in the Milky Way."


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Waking the Dead

Mordin Solus stood behind a desk in a small room, his fingers flying frantically across the small terminal in front of him. Cell samples littered his office, tiny organisms incubating in Petri dishes. His research had been temporarily forgotten as he watched the progress of a ship he had never seen before slowly approach his base of operations. He had quickly scanned ship registrations, and had traced the Atlantic to be that of the Eclipse. In a frenetic rush, he quickly and deftly swept the numerous experiments into assorted cabinets. A small handgun lay on a shelf behind him. Mordin quickly picked it up, and scampered from the room, quickly sealing the door behind him. He hid behind a wall in an adjoining room, hidden from view of the entranceway. The pistol he held would not suffice against a small squad of heavily armored mercenaries, but it gave him some comfort that he wasn't completely on his own.

As he stood still in silence, waiting for gunfire to shatter the illusion of calm at any time, he heard a soft knock on the door. Mordin didn't answer, not wanting to open the door to unknown mercenaries and a hail of bullets. At his absence, the door slowly swung inward on well-oiled hinges, making barely a creak. The intricate series of locks had done nothing to deter the intruders. He slowly inched down the small living room he hid in, the footsteps of his unwelcome guests progressing down the hall in the opposite direction. He heard them stop outside his lab, once again stopping to knock at the solid titanium door.

"Well, Mordin, I have to give you credit. This lock might have even kept the likes of me out, at least for a short time. I'd still get in, but maybe with a headache when I finished." Mordin recognized the voice, quickly trying to place where he had heard it before.

"Tali'Zorah?" he called out, confused. What was she doing working for the Eclipse?

"The one and only," she said, the slightest hint of a laugh in her voice as she stepped around the wall to face the Salarian doctor. Garrus Vakarian followed.

"Wait, no uniforms. Guns at your sides, but Eclipse vehicle outside. Ironic humor in your voice only there when you have a big plan. You stole that ship?" Mordin finally asked.

"Well, well, well. Very good, Sherlock," Miranda stated wryly stepping into the room behind them.

"What?" Tali and Garrus chorused simultaneously.

"Reference to old Earth literature, focusing on Detective Sherlock Holmes. Used as sarcastic reply when one deduces something on their own," came the immediate response.

"Huh. At least someone around here knows what I'm talking about," Miranda said, exasperatedly. "Maybe you could be my translator."

"Translator not the best suit for my talents. Better used as doctor or scientist," Mordin explained, as if talking to a child. "Oh, you were joking. Forget I said that," he added suddenly, embarrassed.

"Hold on, why are you here? Surely not to just say hello, could have sent that in a message," he continued, seemingly forgetting his momentary discomfiture.

"Mordin, do you ever get the feeling that you're talking more to yourself than anyone else?" Garrus asked, chuckling. His only response was a short glare from the doctor.

"You're quite right," Miranda answered the Salarian's question, ignoring Garrus's comment. "And we need your help."

"Better be incredibly important. Working on Genophage cure. What's more vital than the salvation of entire species, and rectifying the mistakes of another?"

"I wouldn't say more important, not as far as the bigger picture is concerned, although it may be pretty close, depending on what the actual situation is. We're not sure what's happening, exactly, except that Shepard's team is being killed. Four of us are already gone, five if you count Thane, although he succumbed to disease, not murder. We can't do this on our own, though. We need Shepard back, and we can perform a second Lazarus project, the same kind that brought him back to life already two years ago. We have the funds; all we need is a clinic, and someone with medical knowledge to spare."

"Bringing Shepard back, theoretically should be easier second time. Medical tech already implemented, just needs kick-start. Shouldn't take much time, depending on exposure to vacuum," Mordin said, his mind already turning over the problems, going over all the steps required to return a body from the dead.

"So are you saying you'll do it?" Tali asked eagerly.

"Yes. If true about killers, won't complete genophage research anyway if found. Also, wish as much as you to see Shepard back. Grew emotionally attached to Commander after two year collaboration. In fact, have perfect area for procedure," Mordin said, indicating the locked door. He turned to open it, when Tali spoke up.

"Mordin, do you think it would be okay if I hacked through the lock? Just to keep my skills sharp?" she asked earnestly. Mordin simply nodded, looking slightly perplexed at the request. After the span of a few short seconds, the lock clicked, and Tali pushed the thick metal door open, revealing a small laboratory, the sterile tables sparkling under an artificial light. Without hesitation, she stepped over the threshold, looking around the lab as her olfactory filters picked up the scent of antiseptic that hung heavily in the air. Garrus and Miranda followed, with Mordin bringing up the rear. He stopped at the door, shaking his head slowly. He made a mental note to upgrade the lock at the next opportunity, then entered his office.

"Is this your house?" Garrus asked curiously, looking back out the doorway into the foyer.

"Yes. Purchased it years ago, no use until now. Had money from time in Special Tasks Group. Figured work on Genophage might anger certain people. Wanted to keep secret, house isolated from easy contact."

"That could certainly come in handy for us as well," Tali said over her shoulder, still inspecting the room. "If it's off the map of the rest of the world, maybe it'll be off the map of whoever's trying to kill us, although things have been eerily quiet on that front. I haven't seen one thing, except for the person who shot Anderson, and he didn't go after any of us."

"Anderson dead? Only two councilors, could throw galaxy into political turmoil!" Mordin exclaimed anxiously.

"You clearly haven't been following the news to closely here have you? Another councilor, Thomas Goodwin, was killed by rioting civilians," Garrus said, raising his brow slightly. Mordin turned to look disbelievingly at the Turian.

"Well, all the more reason we need to get started," Miranda said, urging them forward. "Let's bring the body in here, and at least start to figure things out."

"Bring Shepard to basement," Mordin stated as the three began to walk back out to the Atlantic to retrieve the fallen soldier.

"You have a basement?" Tali asked curiously. "I didn't see it on a preliminary scan I ran of the basic layout."

"Yes, installed security myself," Mordin said, pleased at having bested the Quarian expert at her own game. "Monitors intercept security scans and redirect signal. Basement is removed from scans."

"And you only installed these for the basement, because anyone scanning the house would already know of its existence, and would seem exceedingly strange if nothing showed up on the scans," Tali finished for him.

"Yes. And the basement door is hidden in floor. Made to blend in with rest of tiles," Mordin said proudly, silently praising his own ingenuity. "Am standing on door to basement right now."

Tali slowly bent down, peering at the tiled floor, and was able to distinguish the faintest outline of the entrance to the underground lab, the lines only slightly thicker than those that connected the rest of the flooring tiles. "I'm guessing you keep your most important research down there," she said, already knowing the answer.

Mordin nodded emphatically. "Yes, should house be found, research needs to remain undiscovered. Fate of Krogan rests in my hands," he said, unconsciously looking down at his three fingered hand, the palms facing upwards, absorbing the light from the overhead panels. He looked back up again, seemingly forgetting the heavy weight that lay on his shoulders, and pushed them forward through the door.

Mordin stood behind an operating table in the large underground facility, his fingers flying frantically over the lifeless corpse in front of him. Test tubes and vials of all assortments littered the laboratory, organic tissue samples stored in the multitude of freezers that were strewn haphazardly about the room. He focused intently on his work, his three guests stood against the wall, apprehension eating away at each in turn, none wanting to disturb the near legendary doctor while he assessed the damage to the renowned Commander. After what seemed like an eternity, the Salarian finally looked up from the body, staring confusedly at the three for a moment, as if trying to figure out why they were there in the first place, so absorbed had he been in the work. Suddenly, reality dawned on him, and he allowed a relieved smile to pass across his gaunt features. "Tests proved better than I could have hoped. Little damage to internal structures from vacuum. Hardsuit stayed intact. Death likely caused by blunt-force trauma. Several organs lacerated, but easily fixed. Only breach in suit seems to be at new scar on face. Seems to have been recent damage, contact directly with space would have done more damage to body if exposure had been for extended period," Mordin said, looking at the other three for any clue as to what might have happened. Tali looked down at the floor guiltily.

"Umm, well, when we were bringing Shepard from the wreckage," she began nervously, her hands beginning to intertwine as she wrung them together nervously. She seemed to notice them after a moment, and was able to stop their restless dance. Keelah, she hadn't done that since…not since that wonderful night before they reached the Omega 4 Relay, then again as Shepard prepared to make his last stand against Harbinger. She thought she would be there by his side as they plunged unflinchingly into the maw of the beast. As Mordin made his speech, she began to finally believe that maybe, just maybe, there would be a third time, and a fourth. Maybe he would comeback, they could live together, free of the troubles of the world, only relying on each other strength or comfort, or whatever else they needed. She looked up and noticed the room's occupants all watching her expectantly. Miranda stood with arms crossed, waiting for her to admit her mistake. Maybe she hadn't changed as much as Tali had thought, still leaving others out in the cold as she waited for them to condemn themselves. She steeled herself. "When we were bringing Shepard from the wreckage, the Reaper started to move, and I panicked. I rushed back to the ship, but I cut open his face on a piece of debris." She stopped, refusing to apologize for the action. It had been completely accidental, and anyone would have done the same thing in that situation. She glared at each of them in turn, daring them to challenge her. Her eyes lingered for a little longer on Miranda, not leaving until the Cerberus woman broke her gaze off from Tali's radiant eyes that shone even through the polarized mask. When no one spoke, she moved over to stand next to Garrus, the one friend she had in the room that was still breathing.

"Well, that was quite intense," he whispered into the sound receptor on her mask. "You had me scared for awhile there."

"No harm done. I didn't even make a move towards my shotgun," she replied.

"You were thinking about it for awhile, though. I saw the way you looked at Miranda. And here I was believing the two of you had done some female bonding," he joked.

"Okay, I may have had some thoughts about it, but those'll stop eventually, too. Baby steps. And as for female bonding, I'm not exactly sure Miranda's capable of friendship. Sometimes I think she may actually be a geth buried inside some human skin."

"I'm not sure that's the likeliest of possibilities, but…"

"…Stranger things have happened," Tali said, completing his statement.

"Impressive. I didn't know you knew me well enough to finish my sentences for me," Garrus remarked snidely.

"I've spent enough time around asses in my life to learn your language," Tali replied in kind, the laughter in her voice betraying her real feelings.

"You know, I'm glad we met up again, Tali. Even if it is for nothing, even if none of this works out," Garrus said, sighing heavily.

"I am too," she said, giving the Turian a small hug before walking over to the operation table where Shepard lay, behind which Miranda and Mordin stood, discussing the operating procedures.

"Body had minimal exposure to vacuum, tech still in place and functional for the most part," Mordin was saying. "Not all cells dead, most brain cells fundamentally intact. Simple reconstruct. A week tops, possible in four days." Miranda whistled, and noticed Tali standing next to them.

"Well, it looks like you could have your boyfriend back in a few short days," Miranda said, a hint of scorn in her voice. She seemed almost angry. Could she be jealous of Tali's life with Shepard? She doubted it, the cold woman never seemed to grow attached to anything, and yet, Tali couldn't help but feel a nagging doubt in the back of her mind.

Mordin saw the tension building between the two women as they both glared at each other again, this time Miranda refusing to back down, to turn away. "Could start basic preliminary procedures now. Have all materials I need. Tali, need tech expertise during reconstruction and restart of tech implants."

Thankful for the distraction, Tali quickly sidestepped Miranda, who stood dumbfounded at being shut out of the proceedings. Garrus silently stepped behind her. "Don't worry; we're all deadweight at some point. Just be glad it's taken you this long to get there. I've been pretty much been a burden this entire trip," he said comfortingly upon seeing her dejected expression.

"It's not that," she said, avoiding his intent gaze. "Thanks anyway, though." She walked over to the ladder that led out of the basement to the rest of the house. She needed to be alone.

The house was silent, so much so that Miranda could've heard a pin drop from thirty feet away, if she had been listening. She saw a flight of stairs leading up to a second level, and slowly proceeded up the steps. She opened a door at the top of the staircase, which swung open to reveal a small room, starkly furnished. The sheets were spread meticulously across the bed. A layer of dust covered the furniture. Miranda wondered if anyone had ever set foot in the bedroom before.

She stepped over to the bed, deftly sweeping off the dust that had collected in the minute folds of the sheets. She rested her head in her hands, trying to shake the anger, the jealously that had begun to inexplicably ravage her moments ago. What was going on? She had wanted to lash out at that Quarian girl, so smug, looking down on her. She had stolen Shepard from her. For two years, Miranda had pretended she didn't care, kept her chin down and went about her business. But now, something had changed. Seeing Shepard lying there, while Mordin Solus proclaimed how simple it would be to complete the procedure had struck something within her. The old feelings buried deep, had been brought back to the surface. A sadness Miranda had not known since she was seventeen washed over. Her situation now was just as hopeless as it had been back then. Miranda sat up, realizing the one thing she had never had was the one thing she had always longed for, to tell someone she loved them without the fear that they wouldn't return the feeling. Would she die alone?

The days passed by quickly, one rushing into the next. Tali couldn't recall the last time she had slept. Her eyelids drooped tiredly, but she forced them to stay open. The tech implants had already been restarted, for the most part. The only things that still lay dormant were his heart and brain. Mordin paced anxiously back and forth across the lab, muttering to himself, trying to remember all the steps before they went to work on the final stages. Garrus sat silently in a straight-backed chair against the wall, absentmindedly cleaning his sniper rifle. Miranda was upstairs. Tali had barely seen her since their stand-off five days prior. In all honesty, she didn't mind her absence. Their new rivalry was just another of the many problems all seeking Tali's attention. She pushed the thoughts to the back of her mind. She looked down at Adam Shepard's face, a new network of tiny scars tracing their paths through the soft, clean-shaven skin. Small needles hung on a system of wires overhead, some of the cartridges filled with liquids of assorted colors, others empty, their tips sterilized as they hung ominously overhead.

Suddenly Mordin strode back to where Tali stood. "Need to start heart and brain simultaneously. Heart needs continuous order to beat from brain, don't have machinery to beat artificially. Brain needs constant blood supply once active. Most difficult part of operation now."

"Are the brain cells all functional?" Tali asked, finally realizing just how close they were to the end. For better or for worse, this was the final day of the Lazarus II. She quickly ran to the ladder, climbing up the ladder into the smaller office above. She quickly accessed Mordin's terminal using the passcodes he had given her. An image appeared on the screen before her, Shepard's body, viewed from several angles by assorted security cameras clustered around the underground lab. Diagrams of the different tech implants also appeared, almost all green-lighted as functional. She deftly tapped on the diagram of the heart, an image of the heart moving to cover the monitor. The electroshock equipment that would begin the heart's beating again still lay dormant in the septum. In one of the cameras, she saw Mordin open another terminal, accessing the diagram of the brain. His hands quickly began to pass across the control panel for the terminal, holographic images popping onto display before him. One of the instruments on the panel that rested over Shepard's body began to drill small precise furrows through his temples, the newly recreated blood slowly seeping past the miniscule gap. A microscopic tool on the end of the device began the arduous process of realigning the disconnected neurons.

Tali watched the progression of the connections, Mordin's fingers continuing to fly across the controls, the slightest mistake perhaps leading to complete failure. She broke off her gaze. It was no use what Mordin did if she didn't complete her end. She began to pass her hands across her own control panel, three fingers quickly navigating the multitude of buttons and keys with a practiced ease. She ran down the list of steps in her head. First, she routed the blood through the vena cava veins into the right atrium. As it collected, she sent a pulse to the electroshock starter. A vibration pulsed through the cardiac muscle as the valves opened and snapped shut once again. Tali continued along the circulatory system, issuing the pulses at increasing rates. Eventually, the heart continued to beat without assistance, anticipating the shocks that no longer came. Tali sat back, mouth hanging open in disbelief as she watched the blood flow freely through arteries and capillaries on the diagram.

Quickly switching back to security camera footage, she saw Mordin still typing frantically. Her eyes panned over the display, settling on Shepard's body. She barely contained the tears that were about to flow down her face as she saw his bare chest begin to rise and fall slowly. He was alive! She stood up, at a total loss for words. No longer able to contain her tears of joy, she let them flow freely. They had done it. She turned back to the monitor, watching as Mordin finished typing in a final command into his terminal. Garrus rushed over to the Commander's side, hearing his gentle breathing, and looked straight at Tali through one of the cameras, beaming. She stared back at him, and although Garrus couldn't see the expression, he knew beyond a doubt that she wore the same expression as he.

She sprinted back down the ladder into the basement, leaving the terminal on behind her. As she jumped down, not bothering to climb down the lower rungs, she sprinted to his side, Mordin following right behind. She took up his hand in hers, feeling more at peace than she had in ages. His eyes were closed peacefully, his breathing slow and regular.

As the three exchanged hugs, laughter bubbling out, the result of endless weeks of tension, a message appeared on the two terminals. An unknown ship, not registered with any organizations had landed just outside the premises. No one saw the message.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Rude Awakening

Miranda was upstairs when she heard the front door slowly creak open. Heavy booted footsteps thundered ominously across the floor. She waited for the inevitable sound of gunfire, Mordin shouting something out as he burned away their attackers armor, or the sound of Tali's combat drone, anything except the brutal, excruciating sense of being left in the dark. She picked her pistol from the top of the dusty dresser. She had been spending most of her time they spent here in the bedroom, thinking, at peace with the solitude. She thought she had begun to understand what Tali had felt when she had met up with her on that desolate ship in the Quarian colony.

She opened the door a crack, slithering through the tiny gap on her stomach. She silently thanked the carpet for muffling the sounds of her movement. She arrived at the top of the steps, looking over the landing just in time to see the armor of a Blue Suns mercenary disappearing into the small office, the thick titanium door hanging open. Miranda cursed silently. Why had the other three not heard the intruders?

Miranda slipped silently down the stairs, weapon drawn and pointing straight ahead. Sprinting, she was able to crouch behind a wall, escaping the notice of the mercenaries investigating Mordin's office. One was standing behind the desk, intent on the terminal before him. A faint light played across his face, the reflection of the screen.

Miranda pulled her head back around quickly. The terminal was on, they had seen. It was only a matter of time before they found the panel in the floor. They would catch her companions by surprise, all unarmed, mowed down by the four heavily armored mercenaries. Would they even have time to register something was wrong?

Without thinking of the consequences, Miranda quickly leaned out from around her hiding spot, staring down the barrel of her pistol to the nearest mercenary's head. Five gunshots fired off in rapid succession, dropping the Batarian where he stood. She smiled as the shots rang out loud and clear, reverberating the length of the hallway.

_Somebody ought to have heard that._

She didn't have time to think any further, as the mercenaries turned and began to return fire, the bullets ricocheting around the hall. She felt a sharp stinging pain slice across her thigh. Looking down, she an ugly gash where a well-placed round had grazed the skin. Miranda cursed under breath, trying to run back up the stairs, her pace slowed by the open wound that dripped red blood slowly on the floor. She managed to reach the stairs, grunting in pain as she tried to step up. Her hand slipped on the banister, and she crashed to the floor. A human stepped leisurely around the corner, seeing Miranda slumped across the bottom steps, trying futilely to pull herself out of the range of his gun. She quickly aimed her own firearm at his chest, but before she could pull the trigger, another gunshot cracked through the air.

A wave of agony shot like lightning down Miranda's arm as the pistol fell useless from her grasp, a bloody hole centered in the middle of her palm. The human laughed softly, sadistically; toying with her. Miranda bent over, gasping with each fresh jolt of pain that came with the slightest of movements. Shifting, she made a grab for the fallen handgun with her other hand, only to have another bullet just miss ripping a hole through it as well. The bullet instead buried itself into the wall behind her, that paint chipping away exposing the frame behind.

Miranda jumped at the shot, staring as the man's features contorted into a gruesome smile. "Well, well, ain't the Broker gonna love this," he drawled, centering his gun on her forehead. "After I take care of this whore, we're gonna go find that basement, and kill those bastards, and make sure you kill the guy on the operating table. He's what we're getting paid for," he said to the Turian and Batarian standing behind him.

Miranda looked around anxiously, trying to find something, anything she could use. She tried to force the pain to the back of her mind, but was unsuccessful. The gaping opening still spilled her warm blood across the beige carpeting. She couldn't find anything, so instead closed her eyes, waiting. It looks like she would meet death alone. She began to think back on all her wasted opportunities, regretting all she had not known. If only she could have a second chance, she might have done things differently, but it was too late to fix her many mistakes.

The gun cracked, the shot echoing loudly throughout the room.

* * *

Tali could barely contain herself. He was back; Adam Shepard was once again back from the dead! And this time she hadn't abandoned him, left him to the cruel machinations of some terrorist organization. Her thoughts were interrupted by five gunshots, muffled through the thick floor, but still discernible. A heavy body thudded to the floor directly above them. Miranda was still up there, alone.

Garrus was already pulling out his assault rifle beside her, already sprinting towards the ladder. Mordin's hand quickly shot out, catching him in the chest. "Wait, need to assess situation."

"Assess the situation? Did you just hear the gunshots? I think that's all the explanation we need! And Miranda's up there, for God sake! We may not exactly be the best of friends, but I'm sure as hell not going to leave her to die!" Garrus shouted.

"Keep voice down. Don't want anyone to know we're here," Mordin said, his voice barely audible.

"They already know," Tali breathed. "I never closed the security footage on the terminal," she continued, horrified.

"Then quick, must act fast, bring weapons," Mordin said hurriedly. He rushed to the open terminal in the corner of the room, bringing up a view from a security camera in the wall from the office overhead.

The screen showed the body of a Batarian collapsed on the white tile floor, several holes ornamenting his head. The blood that flowed smoothly from the horrific lesions slicked the surrounding ground. The overhead lights reflected in the dark liquid. Looking further up the screen, they saw three armored mercenaries, the Blue Suns emblem proudly displayed on their shielding. They stopped at the end of the hallway, a human in the center raising his gun casually. They once again heard a muffled shot, the pistol recoiling slightly in the man's grip. The three seemed to be laughing. The human lowered the pistol and fired again.

Tali didn't wait to see more. Sprinting up the ladder, taking the rungs two at a time, she punched through the hidden doorway, the oiled hinges making nary a sound. The door caught before it was able to crash loudly into the surrounding tiles. She leapt silently out of the passage, her lithe young figure crouching low against the smooth tile. The deceased Batarian lay not five feet away from her, his unseeing eyes staring off past her at the wall. Tali paid it no heed, instead focusing her attention on the three figures at the end of the hall, still oblivious to her presence. She quickly pulled her shotgun from its attachments, staring down the barrel at the human who was leveling his gun for a final shot. He never had the chance to pull the trigger. A cluster of bullets sprayed from the barrel of Tali's shotgun. The human merc was lifted off his feet from the force of the blast, dead before he hit the ground. Quickly sprinting behind a wall, she waited for a break in the hail of ammunition, listening for the sound of an ejecting thermal clip.

Garrus's head emerged from the open floor panel. Tali quickly gestured for him to get back down. He needed no encouragement as barrage of shells stormed over his head, missing the Turian's face by centimeters.

Tali heard the heavy footsteps coming closer as the two mercs slowly proceeded down the hallway, never ceasing their constant stream of gunfire. She waited, biding her time, crouched behind the wall. She tensed, grasping the butt of the gun in one gloved hand, barrel in the other. As she saw the head of a Turian appear around the edge of the door, she sprang forward. Unable to counter the vicious attack, the Turian was knocked forcefully backwards as the shotgun stock made contact with his skull. A sickening crack ripped through the air. He stumbled backwards, failing to regain his footing. A single shot from Tali's gun sent a volley of buckshot point blank into his face. He crashed to the ground, falling in front of his still approaching comrade.

Spinning on her heel, Tali instinctively crouched low, the bullets from the Batarian's assault rifle passing harmlessly overhead. Lying on her back, she kicked out, knocking the Batarian's feet out from underneath him. He collapsed, legs flying comically outwards as he landed on his fallen companion. Before he could spring to his feet, a burst of gunfire resounded from the basement door. Garrus stood on the ladder, one hand tightly gripping the top rung, the other curled around the trigger of his assault rifle.

Tali reached out her hand, and his taloned fingers curled around it, as she hefted him through the gap. Without pausing to speak, she raced out the open office door and down the hall.

Skidding to a halt around the corner of the wall, Tali let out a small gasp as she saw Miranda sitting against the wall, hands over chest. Blood seeped from between her tightly closed fingertips. She raised her head, a grimace etched across her face, contorted in pain. Through clenched teeth, Miranda ground out, "It's not as bad as it looks. Hurts like hell, but nothing life threatening." She held up her hand, revealing the wound. Tali couldn't help but breath a sigh of relief that there hadn't been any more serious injury. "In all honesty, you got here just in time. That Blue Suns bastard was about to blow a hole in my head. When I first heard your gunshot, I had my eyes closed. I thought they got me. I've heard the worse an injury is, the less pain it causes. I thought I was about to die. Thank you, for saving me." She closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the wall, breathing deeply.

* * *

The Atlantic had no medical bay. Shepard lay on a small table in the science lab, multitudes of instruments were attached to his arms and chest, all the information displayed on a convoluted assortment of monitors scattered about the walls. The room was empty as Tali opened the door a crack and slipped inside. She pulled a chair beside the sleeping man, taking his soft warm hand in hers, gently intertwining the fingers. She looked down at his face sadly. She had thought things would be easy now that he had woken from his slumber that things could go back to the way they were, but there was a nagging doubt eating away at her. He would be the same, but had she changed too much? And what if he died again? She had mourned him the first time, and the second had broken her. And if she died, would she want to put him through the same ordeal? Especially now, when they didn't even know what they were after. The Eclipse was after them, and now the Blue Suns as well. Why? The Eclipse was understandable, but what had they done to piss of the Blue Suns? And were either of those the ones that had been killing her old companions? With everything so uncertain, their death waiting perhaps around the next corner, could she afford to relight the flame? She wished the answer was yes, but she couldn't make herself believe it. Maybe she could explain what she had done when they got through this, if they got through it. Or maybe he'd already have moved on, found someone else. Was she losing the one person in her life she had truly loved, throwing him away for her own selfish interests? No, again she told herself. This was for him, so he wouldn't suffer should the worst come to pass. As she looked down at him, knowing she might never again have him, almost broke her heart. She gently ran her hand through his short cut hair. A small smile played across his face, and Tali prayed that maybe he had woken up and could dissuade her from her path. But no, he was still asleep, lost in some pleasant dream. As she sadly got up to leave, she stole one last glance back at Shepard, looking more calm and happy than she had seen him since that night. No, don't think about it, that will only make things worse. She opened the door again, feeling as if a crushing weight was pressed upon her chest, suffocating.

* * *

He blinked, looking around. The dim lighting seared his retinas, and he pinched them shut, trying to adjust. Memories flooded into his mind like waves onto a sandy shore.

_A flame burst through the wall, licking outward maliciously. It struck him across the face, his hardsuit beginning to superheat. He felt as the temperature slowly begin to seep through his armor, burning it away. His skin began to stick against his mask as it slowly seared away at the soft tissue in surges of white hot agony._

He blinked, trying to erase the awful memory. He sat up, blinking the sleep out of his eyes. Had it all been a horribly vivid dream? Looking around the room for the first time, he panicked, seeing not the comfortable familiarity of the Normandy, but an unknown vessel. His hand unconsciously slid to his side, feeling for the familiar weight of a pistol. He felt around, touching only empty space. He looked around quickly, seeing the relaxed face of a Turian, a smile creeping onto his scarred visage.

"Good to see you up," he chuckled. Shepard pinched his head, a headache beginning to form.

"So, Garrus, how much of my life did I miss this time? If I was gone another two years, I swear to God I'm going to start throwing things. Probably for the best I don't have any guns on me, just in case."

"I don't think you'll need anything quite that drastic. We pretty much plucked you out of there right after the disaster. It's only been a month."

A month. It seemed so small, inconsequential. What had changed? Had everyone once again moved on? They can't have, there wouldn't have been time, surely not after a meager thirty days. And Garrus was already here, had more stayed?

He turned quickly once again to face the Turian. "Where's Tali?"

"What, no hello?"

"Please don't screw around with me. It feels like I have a massive hangover," Shepard said, becoming irritated.

"That explains why you're so irritable right now. You get the hangover but not the fun part," Garrus replied, his mandibles twitching slightly at the joke.

Shepard breathed in, trying to stay calm. Through clenched teeth, he managed to once again grind out his question, "Where's Tali?"

Garrus jabbed a finger in the direction of the lab's door. "Probably out screwing around with the engines. She's been pretty quiet over the last day. We've all been trying to figure out what's wrong but she insists she's fine. You know more than anyone how stubborn she can be."

It was Shepard's turn to chuckle. "Yeah. But hey, women are apparently the same the galaxy over." He paused suddenly, a frown once again passing across his face, thoughtful. "Wait, who else is here?"

"Not too many people, Me, Tali, Miranda, and Mordin. There's also a pilot Miranda hired, his name's Matt Rowe."

"Well, if that's the case, I think a reunion's in order. It's heartening to see you putting your talents to better use than shooting a couple corrupt merc groups," he shot over his shoulder.

"Oh, we've done our share of mercenary killing, unfortunately."

Shepard paused again, an unvoiced question appearing on his face. Garrus ran his hand down the side of his face. "To get the credits we needed to perform the Lazarus, we had to steal them from the Eclipse, so we had to intercept a couple on Illium. They didn't exactly look like the type to just surrender, though. We did what we had to. And then when we were actually performing the Lazarus just a couple days ago, a strike team of Blue Suns assassins broke into the house. We got out alright. Miranda was shot, but it was all in all just a superficial injury. We don't even know why they were there in the first place."

"Damn, one thing after another. Sorry I caused so much trouble on your behalf."

"Yeah, well. I guess it just goes with the territory. You just seem to attract gunfights, even if you're dead. Must be some kind of magnetism."

Shepard shook his head as he left the room. Some things never changed. He relished the feeling of his feet against the ground, firm. He had never noticed before, but there was something hypnotic about the simple act of walking. First one foot, than the other. Such a simple process, and yet so complex. Only a handful of organic life had been able to coordinate their muscular systems enough to achieve it. Only the highest forms of life. Life. He, Shepard, was back again. It seemed like only minutes ago he had plunged into the heart of a beast. Then he had been lying on the bed. It had all happened in what seemed like the space of a single blink of the eye.

He wandered down the small corridors, looking for the engine room. It did not take long. The small door slid away. He saw the back of a purple veil, painstakingly embroidered with interweaving spirals, twisting together in hypnotic patterns. He silently walked up behind her, slipping one hand tenderly about her slim waste. She jumped slightly in surprise at his touch, for a second losing her resolve. Here was where she had always wanted to be, could she just give up the happiest year of her life?

She pushed his hands off her waist gingerly, turning around to face him. His face lit into a bright smile. She saw the scar stretched across her face. Did he even know it was there? She looked away, unable to bear facing him. She didn't want to see his reaction. It would be like looking in a mirror, if the mask wasn't in the way, separating her from the rest of the world.

"I love you." He said the words so casually, in passing, that it took Tali off guard. It had been a mere statement, so sure. He held no doubts, no reservations. She wished it were that simple.

Shepard watched her intently, a perplexed expression slowly replacing the grin. He waited for a response that did not come. He laid a hand on her shoulder, about to ask if everything was okay, when she slowly slid away from his touch, once again swiveling to face the engineering controls. What was happening?

"Tali? Are you…is everything okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine," she responded. He heard no emotion in her voice. He waited for any further explanation, but none was forthcoming.

"Did I do something wrong?" he asked, almost desperately.

"No, I just," Tali hesitated. The weight that had been on her chest began to push down ever harder. The rest of the room seemed to disappear into the background. She refused to face him. It would only make things harder. "I just, I can't do it anymore. Nobody's ever said it aloud, but I've felt the hatred of everyone you've turned down for me, and how they all look at you. I can't stand it anymore."

"Tali, I don't care about any of that," Shepard pleaded behind her. "I only care about you. I love you Tali, more than anyone, anything." This time, the statement was not thrown in casually. It was a plea, trying to turn aside the inevitable that she knew she had to deliver.

Trying to fight back the tears welling behind her eyes, Tali said, "I love you too, Shepard. And that's why I can't do it anymore. You don't deserve any of this, not on my behalf. I love you, Shepard. Good-bye."

He stood dumbstruck behind her. She had just ripped apart the illusion of content he had put up since his waking. He stormed out of the room, leaving her alone. Why couldn't they have just let him stay dead? Maybe then he could have been at peace.

Tali watched him exit, finally allowing the tears to come forth. Why couldn't she have just told him the truth? That they could be together again after the threat had passed? She punched the terminal angrily, ignoring the sharp pain it sent shooting along her arm. What did the Universe have against her? If there was a god, she cursed him, cursed whatever cruel power had forced her to destroy the one thing in her life that had ever brought her happiness.

"Damn it," she sobbed. No one was around to hear. Just as she had been for most of her life, she was alone.

**A/N: That last part was hard to write, I spent a good six hours on it, so I hope you enjoyed it! Please let me know. I bet that review button looks pretty enticing right now. Just click it, tell me your thoughts. And thanks for reading!**


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: Okay, just let me apologize for the last chapter, I wasn't exactly a huge fan myself, but it was necessary to put in, I promise you. The whole thing with Tali does set up some important future plot ramifications. That's the only reason I put it in the first place, and I never intended the angst crap to be a long winded thing. But please, bear with me. It'll all be over soon, I promise. So, without further ado, I give you: Chapter 14!**

Chapter 14

Dreaming

Shepard wasn't listening. His eyes wandered absently about the room, looking for something, anything that would take his mind of his current thoughts. They lit upon the scanner, and he stood up and walked over, Miranda's words falling on deaf ears.

"What's that?" he asked, pointing to several images flashing on the monitor, looking as if he didn't really care about the answer.

"Those are dead reapers. There's no shortage of them in this system. They're long gone." Shepard nodded, not bothering to look back at her. Miranda doubted he had heard a word of her response. She would have asked him what was wrong, but knew that the question would be ignored, or dismissed. So she kept her silence, confident that everything would work itself out in the end. Despite his apparent coldness, she was glad to see him. She hoped he hadn't changed. Maybe something had gone wrong when Mordin restarted his brain, some neurons hadn't lined up properly. Or maybe waking from death held a temporary effect over the reborn. It wasn't as if she had had the occasion to study the initial results of the project two years before.

After several more minutes of fruitless musings, Shepard exited the room, barely having spoken a word. Confronted once again with solitude, Miranda quickly opened her omnitool, deciding to check in on Eclipse activity with Tali's access code. Browsing over the multiple conversations, she selected one at random. A simple list of business deals appeared, complete with monetary amounts. She closed out of the tab and selected another one. The new file was no different, and Miranda exited once again. The third was more of the same. She clicked on one more, ready to leave the site should nothing worth discovering present itself. Reading down a note, the word Atlantic leapt at her from off the screen. Interest immediately piqued, she quickly skimmed down the short letter.

The search for the Atlantic was on. The small letter revealed the Eclipse's discovery of their comrades on Illium. A search had likely been established when no one returned from their extortion campaign. The report even contained names, their names.

Miranda's thoughts immediately turned towards traitors, her experience with Cerberus having drilled the adage, "Never trust anyone other than yourself," through years of intense assignments, often rife with the betrayal of those she had thought of as comrades. She immediately rejected the idea. These people, they may not trust her, prefer to keep her at the opposite end of a ten foot pole, but they were loyal to Shepard. Of that much she was sure. But someone had informed the mercenaries of their ambush. They needed to find out whom. Someone must have had files saved in the Eclipse's base of operations.

She toyed with the idea of informing Shepard, but based on what she had seen, he was either incapable or unwilling to make any decisions in the first place. She stepped over to the intraship comm array and opened a channel to the bridge. She glanced down at the open terminal, noting a new open file. "Mr. Rowe, please set a course to Proteus in the Athens system." She cut the link, and allowed a small smile to creep across her face. Hell, she could afford to smile once in awhile. No one was around to see it, anyway. "Maybe we can kill a few merc bastards while we're at it," she added to herself, secretly relishing the possibility.

* * *

The Atlantic silently exited the system through the mass relay. No scanners picked the ship up as it cruised out into the Cosmos.

Tali sat alone in the engine room. The Atlantic was a big enough ship to house the engines separately from the engineers. She leaned against the wall, trying to erase her thoughts, lost in the gentle thrum that permeated every inch of the room. She could feel the deep, pulsing vibrations, calming as they flowed in gentle, regular waves.

The regret was already beginning to eat away at her. How could she have done it? The reasons that had seemed so real, so insurmountable, now seemed but sticks in the mud. The odds hadn't stopped her before, first when they were fighting the Collectors, then the Reapers in all their horrific glory. What was different? Had she changed more than she thought?

The decision was not like her. Already, his presence felt further away than it ever had before, despite his proximity. Was it too late to change things? No, she told herself. She had seen what it had done to him. She doubted she could have lasted, even if it hadn't looked like the decision would eat away at him as much as it was her. The fact that it had only lessened her resolve. Her determination began to melt away.

Suddenly Tali stood, new vigor added to her step as her last reserves melted away. She had a new purpose. With a brisk stride, she stepped forward as the engineering door slid upwards. Damn the odds, even if they did all die, she would rather spend her last hours with him than with regret at what could have been.

* * *

He wandered out of Miranda's room. She had been speaking about something, but he wasn't sure what. In all honestly, he didn't care.

Tali's words had beaten the air out of his chest, just as if he had been punched. He had risen from the dead, feeling immortal, only to be cast aside by the one person in the galaxy he had loved, could ever imagine loving. He hadn't even received a welcome back, not even the smallest of smiles. Maybe next time he died, he'd make sure nobody knew where his body lay.

There was a small eating area, hidden behind a closed door. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw it was empty. He didn't much feel like talking now, anyway.

Cabinets lined the walls, the garnished handles an expense rarely found on ships anymore. Their glint had faded, constant handlings softening the once vibrant shine. He opened the first cabinet, pulling out a bottle. He brushed the dust of the label with his thumbs, the particles catching in the air and fluttering about his head. "Batarian Ale," it advertised, the words printed in dark ink across the tag.

Shepard had never been one to drink away his problems. Everything had always had a simpler solution. He had never wanted to forget his problems before. Something was different this time, though. He had never before faced a crisis so simple in nature, and yet so seemingly insurmountable. The reapers? He had killed a reaper before. Their extermination had just been on a larger scale, seemingly little more than ridding the Universe of a deadly pestilence.

He pulled away the wrappings, pulling out a cork wedged deeply into the large bottle's neck. What looked like steam flowed gently over the sides of the opening, falling to form a fog against the floor. He held the bottle uncertainly for a moment, unsure. He had never drunk before. He shook his head, at raised the bottle to his lips.

* * *

He had not been in his quarters, as she had expected. She wandered aimlessly. How hard could it be to find him? The Atlantic didn't come close to the size of the Normandy. The small door that led to the kitchen caught her eye.

Tali breathed in sharply as the door slid open. Shepard lay on his back, eyes closed, chest moving rhythmically. The neck of a bottle rested in his hands, the remains shattered on the floor around him. The liquid had settled across the room's floor, staining the wooden cabinets. She called his name, but received no answer. This was her fault. No time to think about that now.

She began to shout for help, Miranda, Mordin, and Garrus bursting through various doors. They all ran forward.

Mordin bent over the body, examining. He only spoke two words. "Alcohol poisoning."

"Damn it. We need to get to Proteus immediately," Miranda said, a note of fear creeping into her voice.

"Proteus? What are we going there for?" Garrus asked, looking up sharply, despite the circumstances.

"I'll tell you later, but there's a colony there, they'll have a hospital.

Mordin stabbed a syringe into the Commander's arm, temporarily slowing his arms which had been flailing spasmodically.

They laid him in a bed in the cramped crew lodgings. As she looked at his pale face, Tali felt another pang of remorse. She leaned over him, whispering softly, "Adam, I'm so sorry. As soon as you wake up again, I'll fix this. This will be like a bad dream," she said as she gestured around, knowing he could not see her. "It will all be a passing memory."

**A/N (reprise): Okay! I know it's short, but I didn't really have that much to say in this one. And the next chapter will pick back up again. I hope this one is better for the most part, but if it isn't, please let me know. Some of the constructive criticism of the last chapter did help me write this one. And that review button sure as hell isn't going anywhere. Thanks for reading!**


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: Thanks again for all the feedback! To anybody who's stuck with this story long enough to get to this point, you're awesome, I can't thank you enough.**

Chapter 15

Disappear

His eyes blinked open. A thin blanket lay across his chest. His head swam as he tried to focus. The world seemed to spin, blurred shapes scattered about him. What was this? One of the shapes shifted, slowly stepping over to where he lay, still seemingly delirious. Shepard tried to make out who it was. Not human, for certain. It wasn't Quarian either, as he had hoped. Shepard squinted upwards, trying to make out who it was. God, the light here was too bright. Where the hell was he? What had happened? He felt drained, unable, or perhaps just unwilling, to move. All he could remember was a haze, an endless montage of blurred colors and emotions.

"Ah, Shepard. Good to see you awake. Tali'Zorah said she wants to talk to you on Atlantic."

Atlantic? What the hell was Atlantic? Suddenly, the thoughts began to flood back, lucid. He was once again flooded by the pain that washed over him. She wanted to talk? About what? He wasn't sure he wanted to know, but he couldn't hold back a small surge that coursed through him in spite of the situation.

He once again looked back at the figure, recognizing the voice, the clipped speech. "Hey, Mordin. I didn't know you were on this little excursion, too."

"Yes, no one told you? Probably too busy with a bottle to care," he shot back defensively.

"If she wanted to talk to me, why couldn't she just do it here?" Shepard suddenly asked quizzically.

"Wanted to. Stayed in room for ten hours, but had to return to ship to fix small engine leak."

She had stayed with him. Shepard allowed a slow smile to creep across his face. Surely that had to be a good sign?

He pulled the sheets aside, quickly stepping over the side of the bed. The world seemed to spin before him, and he staggered for a moment before regaining his balance. He felt a tight pressure squeezing around his arm. Looking down, he saw a small black strap, attached to a monitor. Even blips registered across a screen next to the bed. A hospital.

At his motion, Mordin quickly jumped up from the chair he had been sitting in, stepping between Shepard and the door. The Spectre paused angrily as he tapped his foot impatiently.

"Mordin, I appreciate the thought, but please get the hell out of my way," he said, exasperation creeping into his voice.

"Need to assess damage, make sure nothing serious," came the immediate response.

"I don't care about the damage," he growled. "I'm up and walking, everything's fine." He brushed passed the protesting doctor and stepped out into the hospital. The walls were so white, sterile. Rooms lined the walls, their doors shut fast. How many of those doors held the dying? How many people would never see their loved ones again? Shepard began to walk faster, assuring himself he would not be one of them, not now.

He heard the protests of several doctors, telling him to stop, get back in bed, he was in no condition to be up. Shepard pushed all the comments aside, marching purposefully forward. Mordin rushed behind him, pleading anxiously, his words doing nothing to deter Shepard's progress.

Out of the corner of his eye, Shepard saw the hurried advance of a doctor, something clutched tightly in his fist. He squinted, trying to make out the object. The doctor's thumb curled around a small knob at the end, the end of needle protruding the opposite end. Shepard turned, watching the man's progress with the faintest look of amusement creeping across his face.

The doctor stopped short, looking timidly up into Shepard's face. He saw the smile there, but also the cold, threatening look in his eyes. "I'm sorry, Sir, but if you don't return to the room, I'm going to have to sedate you," he said timidly.

"I really don't have time for this, sorry," Shepard apologized, forced politeness shadowing the animosity hidden underneath. "And no one is going to sedate me." He turned back to continue walking.

He had anticipated the movement, saw the doctor quickly run forward behind him, needle aimed at his arm. Shepard spun around, grabbing the man's outstretched fist as he twisted his arm. A surprised yelp of pain and surprise issued from the physician, his fist opening. The small needle dropped to the floor. Shepard bent over and picked up the needle. He slipped his hand around the end, prepared to use it against anyone else who tried to hinder his progress. He released his grip on the doctor's arm, and the man quickly turned away. He watched him scurry down the hall and out of sight.

The white coats flew past him, blurring at the end of his vision as he quickened his step. A door at the end of the room swung open as he approached. Behind it lay a waiting room. Several humans sat in rows of chairs, flipping absently through magazines or staring blankly at the cold whitewashed walls. Another door at the end of the room slid away, and he stepped out into the rain. Thick black clouds hung heavily in the air, a cold wind tearing at the hospital gown he still wore with long thin fingers. He unconsciously crossed his arms across his chest as he shivered, the rain wasting no time in drenching the human and Salarian.

Through chattering teeth, he asked, "Mordin, where's the ship? Please say close by."

"Yes. Landed in nearest available dock. Had to be near hospital, you needed treatment."

"Thank God." Shepard breathed a sigh of relief. "Well, I guess you'll have to lead the way."

They forged brusquely ahead, the driving rain cruelly relentless. Trying to shut out the involuntary shivers, Shepard was able to choke out a question. "Where are we? What planet is this?"

"Proteus." Mordin gestured at the dim lights that could just be made out through the downpour.

"Well, I guess that explains the rain. Has it stopped since we've gotten here?"

Mordin merely shook his head.

"What are we doing here, then? If all we needed was to get to a hospital, wouldn't have been easier to go somewhere in the last system? I know we hit a mass relay on the way here."

"Miranda found Eclipse base on planet here."

"And why exactly would that be important?" Shepard asked impatiently.

"Not sure. Should ask when we get back to ship."

They arrived at the deserted dock, the empty silence thick in the air. Abandoned ships lay dormant, some long forgotten at piers. No mechanics wandered the ancient, fading floors. There wasn't any need to. No one ever came in, and no one ever left the colony. The only inhabitant was an old man high above the crafts' hulls, staring absently down at the ship records. A new log had been penned in on one of the lines, the first in months. Atlantic, it read, the words scribbled illegibly.

The short ends of Shepard's hair clung to his forehead, the water running in rivulets down his face. His shivers had begun to rack his body, the gown doing nothing to expel the chill that seemed to permeate even underneath his skin. Running quickly into the open airlock, he rushed into the quarters, looking frantically for any clothes he could throw in. A casual shirt had been neatly pressed and folded, tucked into a drawer. He ripped off the soaking gown. The cloth dropped to the floor, a small splash sounding as the water soaked into the floor.

Teeth still chattering from the cold, he stepped back out into the main hub of the ship, little more than a small room with several doors leading off to separate areas of the ship. Without any hesitation, he walked over to the door to engineering. It slid open, the inside empty. Even the engines were silent.

Shepard stepped back slowly, a sense of foreboding slowly building in his chest. One door after another opened to reveal only more of the same. He ran into the small lab, barely waiting for the door to slide open before he was inside. Mordin looked up from the table, surprised.

"Everyone's gone," he said, the panic clear in his eyes. He rushed back out again, quickly entering the door that led to the cockpit, Mordin close behind. They didn't make it past the threshold. Mordin's breath hissed in sharply behind him. Matt Rowe was collapsed on the ground, a bloody bullet hole through the middle of his forehead. His chest was still, no longer breathing.

"Check for any identification," Shepard said quickly. "I want to know who this bastard was, if he has anything on where they could have taken the others."

"Shepard, not an enemy. Matt Rowe was out pilot."

"Crap!" he shouted, the words reverberating off the walls. "Just how in the hell are we supposed to find them now? They could be anywhere on this damn planet!"

A sudden wave of nausea hit him, and Shepard slumped down to the floor. Mordin rushed to his side, quickly putting a hand on his shoulder. He shrugged it off, trying to fight back a sob. His thoughts immediately traveled to Tali. A thick lump built in his throat, threatening to choke him. He regained his footing, a new surge of energy rejuvenating him. Things had just begun to look up on their prospects. He wasn't going to just let her slip away.

He turned to Mordin. "We need to search every inch of this ship. We need to find something, anything, that might even give us a clue as to what happened, where they are. Whoever did this is going to pay. I'll see to that myself."

Mordin nodded quickly. "Start with cockpit. Close by, preserves time."

"Great. Do it."

Mordin turned to round the corner to the pilot's chair, before he was interrupted. A loud shot rang out, the waves traveling down the cramped corridor. The Salarian felt the wind rush past his head as a bullet embedded itself in the wall where he had just been standing.

**A/N: So...there you go! Please review, any feedback at all is greatly appreciated. The next chapter looks like it's going to be longer, at least that's what it seems like from looking at the outline, so sorry if the update takes a little longer. I'll work dilligently until it's done. It should at least be out within the week. Until next time, take it easy!**


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: As promised, a longer chapter. Enjoy! Please read, and review! And thanks for sticking with me, through thick and thin!**

Chapter 16

Storming the Castle

He didn't stop to think, analyze the situation. Mordin quickly jumped around the corner, pressing himself tightly against the wall. His hand fumbled at his side for the weapon that wasn't there. Shepard dropped to the floor, rolling out of range of any further shots. Scrambling to his feet beside Mordin, he quickly ran into the cockpit looking for something, anything that could be used as a weapon. Suddenly, cutting through the silence, his ears still ringing from the shot, Mordin heard a voice calling out.

"Stop! Don't shoot back!"

Shepard, upon hearing the familiar voice, ran back, flattening himself tightly against the wall beside Mordin. "Garrus?"

"Yeah," the voice yelled back. Shepard noticed the hint of fear in the voice, the urgency. He slowly leaned to his right, glancing quickly around the bend of the wall.

Garrus stood by the Atlantic's airlock, his assault rifle's nose resting against the floor. He waved urgently, gesturing them to come over. Shepard slowly walked down the small hallway towards where Garrus waited. His eyes swept back and forth across the rooms, trying to catch a quick movement, anything that might be a trap. He felt alone, exposed. "Why the hell did you just shoot at us?" he hissed angrily, trying to keep his voice steady, quiet. He didn't know who else could be waiting, just outside his vision.

"I was trying to help Tali on the engines, but I was working manually on the hull. I heard someone scream, and I tried to get back up here to help out. I was in restraints, though, and it took me too long to get out. I saw them drag Miranda and Tali out to some vehicle, but they didn't see me. When I finally got back here, I heard you back here, and I fired off a shot before I saw it was you."

"Damn it!" Shepard shook his head irately. "Did you at least see who took them?" he asked accusingly.

"Not for certain, but I thought I saw a black E on the armor of one of them."

"What the hell did we do to the Eclipse? Are people trying to make my life a pain in the ass?"

"I guess Miranda hasn't told you, then," Garrus said.

"Great. You can explain what she hasn't told me later. In the meantime, we need to find out where the hell the Eclipse took Miranda and Tali."

"How? Not told even why we're here," Mordin cut in.

"I don't know. I'll figure something out. And if either of you have any ideas, now wouldn't be the worst time to bring them up." Shepard's statement was met only with silence. "Great. I hope the two of you are nice and bundled up, cause we're about to go back out there."

The rain had strengthened, if anything, since Mordin and Shepard had returned from the hospital. Shepard almost shouted in frustration. The situation seemed so completely hopeless. How would they find the others?

He regretted not putting on his armor. It would have at least provided some protection from the ceaseless downpour. The lights of the colony slowly appeared in the distance, the lights dim beacons guiding them towards civilization.

They slogged through the flooded streets once inside the city, large drains futilely trying to empty the roads of the freezing water. All the businesses were built above large stops in order to prevent the almost constant rainfall from pouring in at each opening of the door.

"Keep your eyes out for a bar. A man's lips are much looser when he's drunk," Shepard said. They continue walking, feet soaking and cold as the rain leaked inside their shoes.

By the time they arrived outside a nightclub, Shepard was again shivering uncontrollably, body contorting in brief, wild spasms. The instant the door opened, the thrumming of a bassline boomed through large speakers at the back of the club, just audible over the hum of conversation. The small group threaded their way through interweaving groups of couples, all seemingly oblivious to their presence.

The pulsing rhythm had begun to give Shepard a headache by the time they reached the back of the room. Several tables sat empty, the rest occupied by solitary humans, most with a drink sitting in front of them, heads bobbing slightly in time. One man in particular seemed lost in the rhythms, clearly alone. His head lolled forward, his eyes blood shot. He swung his arms ostentatiously about, keeping time with the music, one hand clinging tightly to an overflowing glass, its contents spilling across the floor. He seemed to neither notice nor care. Shepard walked and sat behind him at the table. He tapped the man on the shoulder. He turned, spilling more of the liquid into his lap.

"Look at what'chu made me do," he slurred angrily, making a clear effort to steady his shaking head.

"How about this, I'll just buy you another one. Would that make you feel better?"

The man suddenly raised his head, nodding emphatically. Shepard nodded to the corner where Garrus still stood waiting. He silently slipped off towards the bar, several of the idle couples wondering what a Turian was doing in a human colony. He returned with two beers, setting one down in front of Shepard and the other before the drunk.

"Aren't you getting one?" Shepard asked curiously.

"Damn human colonies don't have anything for dextros like me."

Shepard nodded sympathetically, then turned back towards the other man, the glass already turned up as its contents quickly began to disappear. As he lowered the cup back to the table, Shepard began to speak.

"You know, drinks here aren't cheap."

"You asking me to pay you back?" the other man asked angrily. "I thought this was free."

"Well, I guess you could always just walk away," Shepard replied, shifting so the man had a clear view of the pistol at his side. The man's eyes opened wide.

"How much is it?" he blustered, quickly reaching for his wallet.

"Nothing, not if you can get me some information."

The man's eyes darted back and forth suspiciously, before he consented. "What do you want to know?"

"Anybody on this planet seem suspiciously rich, well-off?"

Looking around once more, the man leaned in, Shepard grimacing at the scent of alcohol heavy in his breath. "There's this one guy, pretty close by here. Got himself a great house, bigger than any others I've seen in this place. He don't work nowhere, either. I've seen him here couple of times, never drinks, never dances. Just stands in the corner. He writes some crap down sometimes, too." He paused, then lowered his voice even further. "I've even heard rumors that sometimes, he'll go outside, threaten people. Never killed anyone, least not that I know of, but some people'll sometimes come back here looking real damn scared 'bout something."

"Do you have a name?" Shepard annunciated, suddenly interested.

"Yeah, name's Rick Sutton, pleased to meet'cha," he said extending his hand unsteadily.

"No, honestly, I don't really care about your name. What's the guy's name you were just telling me about?"

The man seemed slightly offended, but the look quickly passed. "Charles Reynolds. Everybody knows his name. Have to know when to get out of the way." Rick winked. "Hey, thanks for the beer!" he yelled out as Shepard stood up to leave. He raised it to take another sip, disappointment evident on his lethargic features as he realized it was empty.

Shepard and Garrus rejoined Mordin against the wall as Sutton reached over and began to drink Shepard's untouched glass that still sat on the table. They walked unobtrusively back to the exit. Shepard breathed in deeply, preparing for the cold to hit him once again as the door swung open. The rain drops, accompanied by a wintry breeze, stung his face. He walked purposefully up the street, looking for a grandiose dwelling among the shabby apartments. It didn't take long.

A well-kept house stood before them, Victorian windows, now covered with shutters, faced a lawn, the green grass seemingly frozen in place by the glistening frost that adorned each blade. A small terrace ran along the front of the house, neatly sheltered by the ornately carved balcony that hung overhead. Neatly trimmed vines ran in neat rows along the brick façade. A black fence, sharp tips stabbing ominously into the sky encircled the yard, the slightly chilling feel of the gate in stark contrast with the house's old world charm. The entrance hung open on old hinges, rusted from the almost constant rainfall, yet they still felt strangely unwelcome.

Shepard stepped hastily into the yard, striding up to the door. An old brass knocker, hand carved in the shape of a gargoyle stood in the center of the knotted wood. He grasped it firmly, sending the metal ring crashing loudly into the door. As he did so, he sensed a camera focusing on him, no doubt projecting images of the small party to whoever was watching inside. When the door did not open, Shepard quickly took out a shotgun, sending buckshot flying into the door, strips of wood flying off like ribbons that began to adorn the porch at his feet.

Garrus quickly stepped up next to the Commander, signaling to stop shooting. Shepard obliged, resting the gun over his shoulder. The Turian quickly kicked the door, the outdated system of locks snapping easily under the strain, the door crashing open on its hinges.

Inside the door, a great chandelier hung from the ceiling, the glittering glass crystals reflecting the light in dancing patterns along the wall. A long carpeted blanketed the floor, decorated images of bright roses, their intermingling stems entwining with one another. A long twisting spiral staircase led up to the second floor, a balcony overlooking the foyer.

Suddenly, the sound of door slamming sounded from the other end of the house. They sprinted forward, racing around kitchen tables and armchairs, the furniture forming a maze. The backdoor screen still rebounded from the haste in which someone had just exited. Garrus ran up to the door, seeing a figure fleeing across the grass in a desperate race to escape the intruders. He raised his sniper rifle to his shoulder, staring calmly through the scope. A small thud sounded as the gun quietly discharged its payload. The figure topple over, clutching its foot in pain as the muddy ground slowly clung to his clothes.

The three sprinted out the door, quickly reaching the moaning figure. Shepard reached down and yanked him to his feet as the man grimaced.

"Charles Reynolds?" The man shook his head.

Shepard slammed him against a brick wall in the back ground, the shock of the impact jarring his captive. The man suddenly looked up as he felt the cold barrel of a gun against his throat. "Don't lie to me," Shepard whispered menacingly. "Now, care to answer my last question differently?"

The man swallowed nervously, and nodded his head.

"Know anyone who might have an interest in kidnapping a couple of fine women? And don't you dare lie. I don't give a damn if I kill you here today. It's up to you."

"Yeah, yeah. The Eclipse have a facility here on Proteus," he blurted out, only to happy to oblige. "It was the perfect place. The planet was habitable, but there was only one small colony here, and the constant rain would keep anyone from exploring the land, and it would be hard to see the facility unless you were almost on top of it through the fog."

"And how would you know this?" Shepard asked accusingly.

"I work for them. I'm a plant in the colony, funded by the Eclipse. I keep my ears open, see what people know. I keep their existence a secret, keep the settlers oblivious. I did a pretty fine job, too. Till know that is," he added with a nervous chuckle. Better to risk retribution by the Eclipse later than have his brain blown out here and now.

"Okay. One last question. And your life depends on how you answer this one," Shepard said menacingly, pressing the gun further into Charles's throat to accentuate his point. "Where exactly is this facility?"

"It doesn't have an address!" The barrel of the gun pushed all the harder, making it hard to breathe.

"Give me a map."

Charles raised his omnitool, hitting several buttons. "What's your tool's address?"

"Oh, you think I'm about to tell you that?" Shepard chuckled humorlessly. "Not a chance in Hell. Give me yours."

"I can't do that!"

"You're not in much of a position to be deciding what you can and can't do."

"Okay. Fine." He hesitantly slid the device off his arm, handing it too Shepard. He took it, making the sure the device was still logged in, then passed it to Mordin behind him.

"I can go now, right? I cooperated completely," Charles begged.

"Not exactly. I can't have you warning the Eclipse of my coming."

"But I gave you my omnitool! How am I going to contact them."

"Same way I just got yours. Threats. I've heard that you're pretty good at those."

"Please don't kill me," he pleaded.

"Relax. I'm not going to. I'm a man of my word." Shepard quickly pulled the needle he had taken from the doctor from his pocket. The sedative still swirled inside the clear cartridge. In one fluid motion, Shepard drove the needle into the man's arm, ejecting its contents into his vein. In the space of a few seconds, the man's eyes closed, and he fell forward, facedown into the mud.

"Well, can't let him drown," Shepard said, sounding almost disappointed. "Let's get his sorry ass back inside." A thin smile broke out on his face as he watched the mud sink into the fabric of his suit. "Let's put him on the couch. The good one."

"Okay, we have the coordinates. How are we going to get there?" Garrus asked. "Times like this, I wish we had a Hammerhead. Hell, I'd settle for a Mako."

"I don't think we're getting either of those, but he does have a Cynosure," Shepard said, looking around to the large vehicle parked in the backyard.

"Great. I'd definitely prefer not to walk."

* * *

The ground flew past as they sped quickly over the rocky terrain, rain hammering against the Cynosure's view camera. Garrus had his eyes glued to the monitor, trying to make out the many figures through the thick mist, hands clutched tightly to the steering system. Beside him, Shepard stared down at Charles Reynolds's omnitool, a small, flashing red dot representing the Eclipse base. Slowly, painstakingly, the point inched nearer and nearer on the screen. Shepard's head began to sag, eyelids drooping closed. Garrus, to intent on the landscape, didn't notice. From the backseat, Mordin saw Shepard slowly slumping, chin leaning against his chest.

"Shepard, not time to sleep. Nearing facility." His words did nothing. At the doctor's words, Garrus finally glanced over, giving the Commander a sharp punch to the arm. He stirred again, and shook his head.

"You okay?" Garrus asked, sounding slightly worried, eyes once again locked to the screen.

"Yeah, not really sure what happened there." He shook his head, trying to clear from his mind the thick vapors that clouded his thoughts. He couldn't focus. He just wanted to close his eyes, fall asleep to the gentle swaying of the Cynosure…

His eyes jerked open once again as the vehicle slid to a halt on a bed slick stones. He blinked his eyes, looking at the flashing red dot on the omnitool. The blinking began to aggravate the headache he had been developing since waking up in the hospital bed. His thoughts were interrupted as the vehicle shook violently from a sudden impact. The camera showed flames devouring the Cynosure's armor plating, before an explosion ripped the device from its perch. The screen began to flash static.

"Damn. Alright, Shepard, Mordin, go! Let's get the hell out of this thing right now!" Garrus shouted over the wailing of emergency sensors.

They scrambled out the twisted metal door, collapsing onto the rocks as they watched a second missile slam into the Cynosure, crumpling its armor as a wave of heat was expelled outward. The entire hull was consumed by fire, slowly eating away at the softening metal skin. In the distance, a heavy turret set its sights on the three survivors, sending another rocket screaming across the gap to where they lay breathing heavily.

Mordin saw the telltale flaming tail first. Without speaking, He pushed the other two forwards, stumbling across the mossy stones. He began to sprint away. The force of the impact propelled him forward, feet leaving the ground for only a moment. When they landed, he continued his frenetic dash. His eyes darted across the empty, expanse, looking for something that could be used as protection from the constant explosions. He found nothing. Garrus and Shepard had managed to maintain their balance, and they sprinted past him, trying to outrun the constant assault. Mordin followed. It was their only option.

The ground seemed to blur underneath his feet. He almost stumbled twice, his feet catching in small gaps between the rocks. Mordin was always able to regain his footing. Ahead of him, Shepard seemed to be having greater trouble, his movements slow and clumsy. His head bobbed from side to side as Garrus practically dragged him across the open landscape, feet scrambling halfheartedly to find purchase. The steady sound of explosions followed close behind the small band invariably, threatening.

Suddenly, the blasts stopped, leaving only an empty ringing in their ears. They stood outside the walls of a large complex, the thick metal gate's control hanging against the wall in the form a flashing keypad. Shepard approached the small control, staring blankly at the blinking numbers. What did they mean? Why did he feel like this, was something wrong?

Mordin quickly looked over his tiredly slumped shoulders, inspecting the device. He gently pushed Shepard aside, and began pressing the buttons slowly, deliberately. He began muttering streams of numbers under his breath, the other two staying silent, hesitant to interrupt his train of thought. After a few minutes that seemed like an eternity, the doors slid apart to admit the arrivals. They were welcomed by ten armed mercenaries and a hail of bullets.

Shepard and Garrus, already hidden safely behind the large wall, pressed their backs up against it. Mordin, the sole target of ten frenzied volleys, dropped to the ground, the bullets passing harmlessly overhead. Before the mercs could compensate, he had rolled behind the relative safety of the fence, the open doorway separating him from Garrus and Shepard.

Shepard's feet slowly begin to drop, his back sliding down the wall until he was sitting on the cold wet stones. "Get up. Come on Shepard, this really isn't the time," Garrus hissed nervously. His plea was met with no reaction, no response. "Damn."

He quickly ripped the assault rifle from its magnetic holster on his back. Peering from around the wall, he saw half of the mercenaries advancing leisurely. He saw the flashing blue ripples as bursts of gunfire were absorbed harmlessly into his shields. A warning light began to flash from his ocular device, signaling rapid shield loss. He pulled back quickly, quickly checking his ammo reserves, making sure he was fully equipped. The shields quickly regained the energy that had been lost diverting the enemies' fire. A green light shone quickly from the device. Shields fully charged. He leaned back from around the shelter's safety, sending a quick burst of energy from the weapon's barrel. The closest mercenary dropped to the ground, clutching a gaping hole through the center of his neck. Even from this distance, Garrus could see the fear in his young eyes. Barely more than a child. No time to think about that now. He pulled back again, ejecting a spent thermal clip. It fell, still glowing like an ember, before it was quickly put out by the torrent.

He heard slow, precise shots to his left. Without looking over, he could see Mordin, leaning just barely past the protection of the wall, one eye closed tightly as he fired his pistol calmly into the rapidly advancing throng.

_Too rapidly,_ he thought as he once again spent a thermal clip, the ammo ripping into another mercenary with such force that he was thrown backwards off his feet. Seven left. The hoard still continued its relentless press towards the waiting intruders.

"Garrus," came the weak voice beside him. He turned quickly to look at the still sunken Commander. The words sounded so soft. Had he been shot, some shot managing to puncture the solid wall? There wasn't any tell-tale pool of blood. The man just seemed, drained, continuously shaking his head to keep from passing out.

"Shepard?" Garrus asked, unable to hide his worry.

"Here, this should make things a bit easier." He passed over his treasured M-100 grenade launcher, somehow still functioning after its many years of use and abuse. "I never leave home without it," he smiled feebly.

"You always did pick the worst time to crack a joke."

"What can I say? We all have our own ways of relieving tension. I think I'd prefer mine to yours right now."

"Alright, we can talk later," Garrus said, spinning back to the firefight with the new weapon cradled lightly in his strong arms. It looked like things might finally be turning in their favor. Mordin had already brought two more down, and was systematically beginning to work on another.

Quickly, Garrus pulled the trigger, watching as a grenade flew from the barrel, seemingly in slow motion. He watched its slow, graceful arc as it came to land in the midst of the approaching mercenaries. For a moment, nothing happened. The entire world seemed to have stopped, silent with bated breath. Suddenly, a thin majestic flame erupted from where it rested. The dirt around the blast was lifted and thrown violently outward in all directions. Three of the remaining mercenaries were lifted off their feet and pitched backwards. Only two scrambled back onto their feet, shaking as adrenaline began to course through their veins. They both ran forward. Another explosion from the grenade launcher sent small shockwaves rippling along the ground. This time, they did not stand back up again.

Garrus handed the weapon back to Shepard, who once again pinned it to its clasps, the seals clamping tightly on the barrel. "Hey, give me a hand up," Shepard requested. Garrus extended a hand, and Shepard grabbed it, struggling weakly to regain his footing. He staggered uncertainly, as if drunk. Mordin carefully and quickly stepped past the still open doorway, the idea of reinforcements replacing their fallen companions not unlikely.

"Everything okay?" he asked, arriving unharmed by their side, watching Shepard's erratic stumbles.

"I don't know," Garrus whispered in answer. "Something's going on here, something not quite right," he added, gesturing inconspicuously in Shepard's direction.

They both looked guiltily away from each other when Shepard called out, "Come on, guys, we need to get going!" Obediently, they turned, allowing Shepard to lurch ahead of him, keeping their eyes on him the entire way.

Inside the gates of the compound, the rain still poured heavily across the acreage, but the slick rocks of outside had been replaced by solid, newly paved asphalt. Large, armor-plated trucks lined the perimeter, temporarily unguarded. The dead bodies of the mercenaries looked almost peaceful, the deluge washing the blood out of sight as fast as it appeared.

"Should we clear bodies?" Mordin inquired.

"Leave them. If anybody was going to find out we're here, they already know. And if they aren't going to find us, then it's just a waste of time," Shepard responded. His walking seemed at least slightly more stable on the flat, manufactured surface, Garrus noted. They quickly traversed the open compound, arriving at the central building.

"Hey, somebody forgot to lock the front door!" Garrus said happily, noting the green flash of the sensor on the wall. "For once, something goes right!"

"Make a note of it. That'll probably be the last thing for awhile," Shepard retorted, his voice ominously soft and feeble.

Hitting a single button on the keypad, the door slid open with barely a sound. Inside, a single man jumped up from behind the terminal he had been working. Absent was the typical yellow armor worn by the Eclipse fighters. Instead, he wore a casual shirt, the organization's logo imprinted in black at the center. Before any of them could react, he picked up a pistol that rested on the desk beside him. He fired a single shot before he was thrown back by the collective force of the trio's weapons as they fired in unison. The man was dead before he hit the ground.

Garrus looked down, putting a hand over a small hole in the arm of his suit, thick red blood dripping between the gaps in his fingers. Shepard noticed the Turian's grimace, and saw the blood. "Oh, God. Damn. How bad did they get you?"

"Not too bad, hurts like hell, but they always do."

"Need any medigel?"

"Save it for something important. I told you, it isn't bad," he added when Shepard looked about to interrupt again. "The clotting medication they gave me when I joined C-Sec helps, stops the bleeding a hell of a lot faster than normal. See," he said, as the blood flow began to slow, as if on command.

They continued onwards once again, but were soon interrupted as Mordin called out for them to stop. "Should check terminal, look for important information, locations, holding cells."

In answer, Shepard turned back and carefully made his way over, trying to keep from collapsing. He was beginning to feel even worse. He felt like wretching, and his headache felt like it was about to split his head open. A cold sweat stood out on his forehead.

Mordin, already crouching down behind the chair so as to see the terminal, had already opened a file on the computer. Two words stood out on the screen. _Message Deleted. _The name of the sender was still listed across the top of the message, Nyxeris Bi'enyo.

Arriving at the terminal, Garrus scanned over the information, eyes widening. Nyxeris. She had been with Liara on Illium. What was she doing in contact with the Eclipse? He voiced his thoughts to Shepard.

"Great. If we go to see Liara, we'll tell her. This isn't helping us now. Bastard probably deleted it when we came marching through the door. Unless there's something else here, we're wasting time," Shepard said impatiently. He looked around the room, the colors beginning to spin and blur together. He shook his head, trying to clear it but without success.

"Wait, found map." Mordin quickly manipulated the terminal's controls, inflating a small tab to cover the full screen. In the center of the facility, on the lower level, was a small block of cells, beside an open atrium. Further along was another set of cells, through a separate room.

Might as well start there," Garrus said uncertainly, indicating the nearer of the two prisons. Without any further conversation, they departed the low-ceilinged, dimly lit room, passing through another door at the end opposite which they had entered.

Through the door, began to lose track of where they had been, where they were going. The world was spinning around him, and more than once he felt his shoulder collide with the wall. He forced himself to focus, to push forward. They passed through another door. He began to wonder why they hadn't been intercepted by any other mercenaries. Their absence struck him as strange. The thoughts were driven from his mind as he heard a shout. The voice pierced through the fog that enclosed his mind. A voice he knew.

He sprinted forward. Several times he was aware of his hand slamming into the hard floor, jarring his wrist. The pain seemed distant, more of a memory than an actual experience. Suddenly he was at a railing, overlooking a wide open space below. The sound of dripping water echoed from somewhere far off. Pipes jutted out of the wall, disappearing into the cracked concrete walls. Below, he saw two figures, one standing, the other lying collapsed on the ground.

Suddenly, the image snapped into sudden, sharp focus. Tali, her hands bound, coughing on the floor. He hadn't ever seen her cough before. Than it struck him. She wasn't wearing her helmet! The frame was still there, but the polarized glass had been shattered. Without thinking, he whipped out his gun before an agonizing wave of pain washed through him. He contorted violently on the ground, doing his best to stay completely silent amidst the anguish. The spasm hadn't lasted more than a few seconds, but when he once again came to, his vision was foggy. He crawled to the railing, aiming his gun at the figures below. They were too close together; he couldn't trust himself not to hit the wrong target, not in his condition.

He saw Tali's shadowy figure shift quickly backwards, the other beginning to shout. Shepard saw the opportunity. He saw three projections of the man imprinted in his mind, the image suddenly and rapidly beginning to dim. _The one in the center, he told himself. Aim for the one in the center._ He felt the trigger tighten under his finger, the subtle shift of balance as the gun discharged its payload. But before the bullet landed, his vision had gone black, and he allowed himself to drift away from the dank underground fortress.


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

Dire Circumstance

She pushed the guilt that still filled her with regret to the back of her mind. She knew she shouldn't worry about it, whatever happened, agonizing wouldn't change anything. Still, she couldn't help it, playing out every possible scenario in her mind. Some ended happily, many others did not. Would he even want her back after what she had done? Yes, yes, she forced herself to believe. Everything would be okay, these things always work themselves out in the end. _Not always in the ways we hope. _Oh, Keelah, her thoughts were flying in circles. She focused on the terminal before her, willing herself to focus on the numbers flying on the screen before her, tune out the outside world. Easier said than done.

What was she doing here? Why hadn't she just stayed in that small, sterile hospital room, watching his chest move slowly up and down as the monitors sounded their reassuring pattern of slow, even blips? The engine had needed fixing, a leak in one of the pressure valves. Now here she stood, distracted and anxious, charting the ups and downs in the leaking regulator as Garrus hung outside, adjusting other systems.

A small camera on the outside of the ship showed the Turian in question hanging from a small system of cables. In front of him, attached to the hull of the Atlantic, was a thin beam of wood, various tools scattered haphazardly across its splintering surface. She cut the camera feet, trying not to distract herself from her own end of the task. She breathed in deeply, finally able to push out all thought. She became so engrossed in the work that she did not hear the door slide open behind her, didn't hear the heavy breathing. It was only when she felt the solid barrel of a gun pressed against the back of her head that she registered that something was very wrong.

"Don't move, or I put a bullet through that pretty little veil of yours." The voice is cold and unforgiving, daring her to try to escape. Tali could tell he would follow through on his promise, so she complied, standing still, biding her time. "Move, out the door. We have a nice truck waiting for you. The docks are wide open. Try to run, we'll have you dead before you know we were even shooting, understand?" She nodded. As she did, Tali looked quickly around the room, anything that could help her overcome her captor, or captors. They were staying out of sight, giving her no advantage should things come to a head.

Out the engineering doors, into the Atlantic's central hub. They forced her to step forward, pushing her roughly from behind. She didn't know if the others had already been captured, or if she had been the first. Her instincts immediately began to kick in. Her body screamed to run, but she fought back the impulse. But she had to warn the others, give them a chance to escape. She remembered the lessons that had been drilled into her on the Fleet. _Protect the fleet at all costs. Put the rest of the ship before yourself. Only then will we survive._ The same rules applied here. Save the others.

"Run!" she cried out. Instantly, she felt a hand whip around, slamming painfully across her mask. The impact jarred her skull, and she winced. Suddenly, she felt a hand over her mouth, against her skin. _Oh no._ She opened her eyes, praying that she had just imagined it, her fear causing her to experience what was not happening. Her prayers were unanswered. She squinted, the light seeming unnaturally bright as it washed her face in the unnatural luminescence.

The panic began to set in. How long did she have? Would the infection be minimal, or had she already been given a death sentence?

Miranda suddenly burst through another door, looking around quickly, a faint blue esoteric glow highlighting her form. She only had time to acknowledge Tali's face, the men standing behind her. A look of horror passed across her face before she pitched forward. Standing behind her, small club in hand, stood another mercenary. Tali could clearly make out the Eclipse logo on his chest. Suddenly, a cloth was forced onto a force, knocking several more shards of the glass loose. She was able to register a sickly-sweet smell on the material before she began to feel dizzy. Slowly, a blackness crept into her peripheral vision, making its way slowly and steadily inwards. She heard a shout, tried to hear whose voice it was. After a moment, she registered it as the pilot, Matt Rowe. She heard a single gunshot, a sudden, shocked gasp. _Please let this just be a nightmare._

_

* * *

_She felt herself drift back into consciousness. She kept her eyes closed, allowing a small smile to cross her face. So it had been just a nightmare. She felt strangely tired, still, her mind sluggish. It hadn't struck her at first that she was uncomfortable, the feeling seemed to grow, hovering just outside of her conscious like an annoying bug. She shifted, finally comprehending the solid ground underneath her slim body, the tight metal clenched about her wrists.

She snapped her eyes open. The first sight that greeted her was a small, thin shard of jagged metal, the only remainder of the polarized mask that had separated her from a slow descent into disease and death. She tried to push herself to her feet, but her hands were bound in metal chains attached to the wall. Tali felt her chest tighten in panic. How long had she been unconscious? How long did she have left?

Sitting up, she almost passes out again, her head spinning. She began to shiver as the room suddenly turned to ice, sweat pouring down her forehead. Habitually, she went to check the thermometer reading, only to be once again jarringly reminded of the fragmented faceplate. She had never felt so alone.

Suddenly, heavy footsteps echoed ominously from somewhere down the hall, out of sight of her cell, drawing ever closer. A sneering face was the first she saw of the man, the Eclipse sun brazenly displayed on his shirt.

"Well, hello there, Princess. Welcome to our humble abode. You slept right through the continental breakfast." He smiled evilly at his own joke, corners of his mouth twisting upwards in a ghastly, devilish grin. "I'd ask you if you were comfortable, but I imagine this is like living in the lap of luxury for you, compared to that hellhole of a fleet."

"Screw you," she spat out contemptuously through clenched teeth, doing her past not to fall to the ground, clutching at a headache that threatened to burst forth from her skull.

"I wasn't planning on it, but if it means that much to you, I guess I could manage. Who am I to turn down a guest?" The smirk returned once again. In between stabs of pain, Tali wished nothing more than to personally tear the smile from his face, preferably with her own hands.

He slid the cell door open, creaking as the ancient structure protested. The mercenary slowly stepped into the room, striding leisurely toward where Tali lay on the dusty, hard ground. As he arrived beside her, bending down to her prone form, she lashed out. He booted foot connected solidly with his groin, and she grinned in spite of the dire circumstances.

"Let's see you try your plan now, bosh'tet."

"Believe me, I will," he snarled, accentuating his words with a swift kick to her side that sent Tali reeling, gasping for breath. As she coughed, breathing heavily from the pain, she felt another pair of shackles slap about her feet.

"I was going to do it in here, but with that little stunt, I think we may just put you on display, give everyone a turn. What do you think?" He didn't wait for a response as he yanked roughly on the chains binding her legs, dragging her, fighting, across the hard rocky ground. Each bump causing her to grunt in pain, the jostling igniting a fire in her side where his boot had connected.

As her struggling slowed, arms growing tired much faster than they normally would from the fever that had begun to ravage her, she looked at her captor, searching for a weakness, anything she could exploit. She saw nothing, nothing save for a metal blade glinting in the dim, artificial light. As he shifted his balance, the hilt came into view. She froze, eyes running over the familiar contours, the sharp, gleaming edge she always kept honed to a fine point. Had they taken everything from her? Not everything, not yet. She would stop him, before he could.

In the center of the atrium, they stopped. She felt his eyes, sliding up and down her body, appraising. Without her mask, she felt horribly exposed, already bare to the world, to the sick bastard.

"I think it's time I finally got to learn how those suits of yours work. Back on Earth, it was a common belief that the best way to learn about something was to take it apart. I always did find that a brilliant philosophy."

A noise echoed down towards them from a balcony overhead. The man's eyes snapped upwards, momentarily distracted. Tali pulled herself backwards along the ground as quickly as she could. She felt her hand catch on a sharp point, and she pulled it away quickly, before an idea struck her. Moving quickly, the mercenary already turning back, she quickly began to saw through the chain binding her hands, the weak metal easily snapping.

The man arrived beside her, face contorted angrily. He drew back his foot to lash out once again, but was interrupted by the sound of a gunshot. Tali saw the surreal fountain burst from his arm as his breath hissed in sharply. As he clutched dumbly at the wound, she quickly spun herself around, adrenaline temporarily making her forget her sickness. She swung out with her newly free hands, catching the man in the leg. He toppled over clumsily, too surprised to call out. Her fingers fumbled numbly at the man's side, searching. Suddenly, they found purchase on a thin cylinder, her fingers curling naturally around the object. She jerked it free, feeling the familiar balance as the blade seemed to hang weightless in her grip. Without pausing to think, acting on instinct, she drove the point downward, the thin, deadly blade easily slicing open his thigh. As the man began to shout, trying desperately to escape her murderous rage, she quickly dragged herself behind him. The last thing the man felt was a soft wind at his neck from Tali's practiced swing before the blade plunged through his head. The mercenary moved no more.

She turned her attention to her bound legs, quickly slicing through the chain with the knife, ignoring the rings that still enclosed her ankles. The gunshot quickly entered her thoughts. Had someone been aiming for her, and simply missed? If so, she doubted her luck would hold out. She ran clumsily, staggering underneath the relative safety of the balcony, inching her way towards the stairwell. She climbed the rough hewn stone steps, staying low, out of view from the top.

As she reached the final step, Tali saw Shepard, laying face up on the floor, Mordin and Garrus bending anxiously over him. She rushed forward, crouching next to the Turian, who shifted sideways to make room, not looking up. Seemingly calm, he asked, "Are you okay? What happened?"

"Never mind. What's wrong with Shepard?"

"I don't know. Mordin's trying to figure that out. Don't know if he's having any success. Either way, we need to get him back to the hospital."

"What about Miranda? Isn't she in that cell block?"

"No, you were the only one." The words shocked Tali. The only one in the cells. She couldn't be dead, just somewhere else. Garrus's next words allayed her fears, at least momentarily. "We did find another cell block, on a map. They might be keeping her there, keeping the two of you separate. Looks like that makes out job that much harder." He finally glanced up, noticing for the first time, Tali's shattered visor. "Oh god. Screw that, you need to get back immediately. How've you held out this long?"

"How long has it been?" she asked, not sure she wanted to know the answer.

"Almost ten hours."

"Keelah," she breathed, a new fear suddenly entering her thoughts.

Mordin suddenly looked up from the body. "Appears to be continuation of alcohol poisoning. Impossible, cured in hospital. Unless," he trailed off, the word hanging threateningly overhead.

"Unless what?" Tali asked quickly, gut tightening. Not again.

"Unless he drank Batarian Ale."

"Why would that make any difference?" Garrus questioned.

"Made of different plant than most, brewed with different process. Fermentation continues in digestive tract. Chemicals only triggered by certain acids, like stomach."

"So, you can get drunk twice?" Tali asked, making sure she understood.

"Precisely. From severe reaction earlier, Shepard seems to have low tolerance. Needs medical attention. As do you. Have to go now, no time to waste."

They stood up, looking around to see if anyone had noticed their presence. The atrium was empty save for the body that lay, the only testament to their existence. Garrus lifted the unconscious Shepard deftly onto his shoulder, grunting under the increased weight. They traced their path back, the deserted hallways seeming to stretch unceasingly onwards.

Tali suddenly felt worn out, utterly exhausted. Every step seemed to further deplete what little reserves of energy she still had. Her head spun sickeningly. It was all she could do to keep moving. Ignore the sickness; maybe if it was overlooked it would go away. Mind over matter.

She barely registered the room; a dead man slumped across the floor, a pair of glasses knocked askew on his bloodied face. Without stopping to look, they continued on through the door they had entered through only minutes prior. Tali shivered as the opening door brought with it gusts of freezing wind and icy raindrops.

"Hurry, need to get to vehicle," Mordin whispered. Despite the fact that ground was apparently deserted, he was loathe to take any chances. Creeping out into the open, they were immediately greeted by a high pitched whistling. Looking up, they saw a bright, flaming star drawing ever closer, arcing towards where they stood.

"Damn, nothing's ever easy," Garrus said as they sprinted out of the path. He saw Tali stumble out of the corner of his eye. As she tried desperately to keep moving, stay on her feet, he grabbed her arm with the hand that wasn't already steadying Shepard's unconscious form.

More of the missiles followed closely behind, screaming through the thick fog. Tali could feel the heat from each explosion as it washed, unhampered across her exposed features. As she ran, she couldn't help but remember her dream that one day she would feel the rain against her skin, free from her suited prison. Admittedly, these weren't the best circumstances for the experience, but she couldn't help but revel in it, even as she felt on the verge of collapse, trying to keep from being incinerated in a brilliant explosion.

Out of the mist, a truck suddenly came into view, parked clumsily on the blacktop. Tali habitually moved to the lock, prepared to hack it with shaking fingers.

"No time for that, get back," Garrus ordered. He pulled the grenade launcher once more from Shepard, aiming for the door. The explosion sounded amidst a cacophony of sound, mingling with the whine of more missiles preparing to end their journey, as well as a faint growling.

"Varren," Mordin whispered fearfully. "Getting close."

The flames from the explosion cleared, revealing the door to the vehicle smashed inwards, creating a gap just large enough for them to squeeze through. "Get in! Garrus yelled at Tali, who needed no further encouragement. She quickly clambered through the gap, collapsing against the upholstery. Mordin followed closely behind. Once inside, the Salarian turned back and helped pull Shepard's unconscious body through the twisted metal.

Garrus turned to follow, when a pack of varren burst wildly through the haze, making a beeline for the Turian struggling to fit through the tight opening.

Garrus felt a pair of strong jaws close around his leg, the armor temporarily deflecting the teeth, the pain. It wouldn't last much longer, though. Maneuvering as bet he could in the cramped space, he twisted his free leg around, delivering a swift blow to the creature's head. It released its grip, its face seeming to shrink over its broken skull. Whimpering pathetically, the varren tried to slink away, but collapsed before it could go more than several paces. The respite wouldn't last long, however. Two more were already clambering to take its place, just as one of the rockets made contact with the truck, lifting it several feet off the ground. Sensors on the monitor began flashing rapidly, alerting them to damaged systems. The jostling as the vehicle once again hit the ground allowed Garrus to pull his legs through. He looked down at the terminal, smiling in spite of himself. A simple press of a button, and the motor roared to life. Somebody forgot to take out the keys.

He quickly jerked the truck forward, managing to avoid another missile assault, the projectiles exploding harmlessly against the compound's walls. "Do any of you know who's shooting at us?" he shouted across the bench to his comrades."

"Unsure, can't see. Wait, sensor readings show other vehicles. Beginning pursuit," came the answer.

"Damn it! Can we shoot back?"

"No. Weapons offline. Destroyed in explosions."

"Crap. Looks like we're going to have to run for it."

They shot past the still open gate, the heavy rain chilling Garrus to the bone as he sat beside the smashed door. "At least these things don't have tracking," Garrus said more to himself than anyone else. "I think we should be able to lose them in this weather.

Tali's head slumped, her eyes slowly beginning to droop, succumb to the exhaustion that seemed to permeate her very existence. Every jerk of the truck as it hit a rock would send her head snapping upwards again, only to collapse again. She looked down at Shepard's figure, noticing she held his cold, pale hand in her own. She tightened her grip, not wanting to let go. Everything would be okay. She didn't even know if she believed it herself, every glance upwards, seeing the world unhampered with her glass prison, glass shield. She didn't want to look anymore; she only wanted to close her eyes and sleep.

After what seemed to be an eternity, the lights of the colony came into view, once again leading them back to safety. Garrus finally allowed himself to break his view from the primitive windshield of the vehicle, spider web cracks adorning the fragile surface. Mordin sat perfectly still, eyes locked onto the various monitors, scanning the results, processing them. To his right, Tali's head lolled to the side. He saw her eyelids closed peacefully. "Tali? You alright?" he asked apprehensively. Her silence only succeeded in confirming his fears.

He pushed the truck even faster, the engine groaning under the strain. The heating gauge on the instrument array began to flash a warning. "Damn it, come on," Garrus encouraged, willing the vehicle forwards.

They arrived at the city's outskirts, shooting rapidly up the narrow street, parked cars jutting out dangerously close towards the furious rampage of the truck. Suddenly, in one final roar, the vehicle ceased its progress, black smoke fuming from the engine. Without a second thought, Garrus quickly grabbed the Commander, kicking furiously at the door, refusing to waste time trying to finesse his way back out. He staggered out onto the slick, rain soaked pavement, Mordin following closely behind. He carried Tali gingerly. Her face was pallid, much more than the pictures he had seen of Quarian biology.

"Have to hurry. Won't last long out here," Mordin said anxiously, trying to shelter Tali's exposed features from the freezing torrent.

All of a sudden, the sound of wheels squealing across the drenched street could be heard, coming their direction. Garrus stepped quickly into the roadway, stopping the passage of a small car as it sped around the corner. "What the hell is your problem, Turian?" the man shouted angrily, glaring at the figure blocking his path.

"Open the door," Garrus ordered determinedly.

"No, get the hell out of my way!"

"I have two people dying as we speak! We need to get to the hospital now, or they won't have any chance! We may already be too late as it is!"

"Then get your own damn ride!"

Garrus gestured furiously at the smoking engine in response. "We're not going anywhere without your help!"

"Then it looks like you're screwed. I have a meeting to get to, I'm late already. I don't have time to go taking detours just to get your friend hooked up to an IV patch!"

"You have plenty of time," Garrus said, his voice suddenly dropping threateningly. With his free hand, he drew the pistol at his side, aiming between the man's eyes.

"Okay, okay," the man suddenly said timidly. "Get in the back."

Garrus and Mordin scrambled into the car, shutting the doors quickly. Cursing quietly, the driver turned his vehicle around, making his way towards the small settlement's hospital.

"Hang in there, guys," Garrus said, knowing full well that his words had gone unheard. It was now a race against time.

"What about Miranda?" Mordin suddenly asked, looking across at the Turian's face.

"She's tough, she can hold out for a little bit. If we don't get them to the hospital now, they're both going to die," Garrus said, gesturing at the two unconscious forms to accentuate his point. "I'll have to go back once we get them treatment."

"Coming with," Mordin immediately responded. "More useful there than sitting in waiting room."

"Fair enough. We're going to need a new ride to get back out, though," Garrus said, looking around the car as he did. His eyes lingered a moment longer on the driver.

**A/N: Thank you all once again for reading and (hopefully) reviewing! I hope it was worth the relatively long wait. Things may slow down significantly, now, though. School's about to start back up again, and I still have to read three books in ten days, so it may be a bit of wait for the next update, but I promise I'll keep working in my spare time. I guess the sheer joy that comes with reviewing the story will just have to tide you over for now ;)**

**Take it easy.  
**


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N: Before the chapter proper begins, I would like to reiterate how grateful I am to anyone who as reviewed, alerted, favorited, or even just read this story.**

**However, I'd still like to give out special thanks to some of the regular reviewers. So, KoKoTheBunga, CitadelGamesSalesman, and Syroc, you guys completely rock. Thank you for sticking with me! (I'd also like to send out a quick thanks to Inverness, who helped me finalize the decision to cut the angst crap short.)**

**And now, without further ado, Chapter 18! Please R & R, but I'm sure you already knew that!  
**

Chapter 18

Trapped

Garrus and Mordin saw Shepard and Tali safely inside the hospital, carried out of the hospital on stretchers by the various medical staff before Garrus turned back to the driver. He pointed the pistol that had rested on his lap for the duration of the drive at the human's head once more.

"Please, get out of the car."

"You said you'd leave after I got you to the hospital! You lying bastard!"

"No, now you're assuming things. I never said what we'd do once we got back here. We need the car; we're not leaving here without it. When we're done, we'll drop it back off where we first ran into you."

"You're going joyriding with my car?" the man asked incredulously. "This isn't funny. I have a business meeting I need to get too! I'm already late, and they're probably going to fire me as it is. How am I going to support my family then? Do you have any idea how hard it is to find work in this damn colony in the first place? All the companies already have all the personnel they need!"

"Please get out of the car. This is the last time I'm asking," Garrus said calmly, keeping his face blank.

"I can't believe you're willing to have my family starve to death so you can ride this piece of crap around for a few hours. That is, if you were even planning on dropping it back off in the first place."

"We will. Just get out, now," Garrus ordered through clenched teeth, trying to keep from losing his temper, "before I do something drastic."

The man glared back at his passengers as he slowly stepped out into the pouring rain. Not taking his gun off the man, he moved behind the steering wheel, Mordin climbing in beside him. As they drove away, they heard the man shout after them, "I'm calling the cops. They'll bust your pathetic asses!"

"Try it, asshole!" Garrus shouted back. He ducked his head back inside, when Mordin turned to face him.

"Necessary to threaten violence?"

"Of course it was, he wasn't about to leave because we said please. Besides, he wasn't ever in any danger." Garrus tossed the pistol to Mordin to accentuate his point. The Salarian flinched as the gun landed, picking it up after it became clear it wasn't about to dispatch a slug into either of their heads. His nimble hands instantly flew to the engaged safety on the weapon. He disengaged the lock and returned it to Garrus.

"Should have ready for immediate use," he explained simply.

"Yeah, thanks. Don't want to waste time screwing around in a fight trying to get the damn thing to fire. Although even if it does come to a fight, I hope I don't have to rely on that prick of a weapon. I'm happy with my rifles."

They continued driving forward, Garrus staring intently at the feed projected on the screen that spanned across the entire front of the car, images flashing blearily across the screen, raindrops flecked across the lens of the rain drenched camera.

Suddenly, the gate once again loomed through the thick haze that hung malevolently, seeming to wish harm upon those who dared to venture within its murky depths. The hulking seemed no less welcoming, the walls towering overhead, solemnly watching their approach. Garrus pulled the car short of the still open gate, beckoning them inside, waiting to celebrate their return with a fitting set of festivities.

"Let's get out here. If they're still outside, maybe we can sneak past their sensors. They sure as hell can't see us."

"Unlikely. Fired on as we left main building. Likely sensors pick up everything."

"That's only if they didn't have a motion sensor tied into the main door. For all we know, they registered that and not us," Garrus replied. "Besides, it isn't like we'll be able to return fire in this piece of crap. It'll just slow us down when we actually have to get out."

With no further conversation, he opened the door on his side, the thin metal gliding neatly upwards, seeming to form a wing on the vehicle. Mordin did the same on the other side. Quickly shutting them by use of a keypad, they entered once more into the hands of their enemy.

Once inside the premises, Garrus crouched instinctually, knowing full well the action would have no effect whatsoever on any sensors sensitive enough to pick up their movement. Garrus registered a slight pain in his arm, and upon looking down, he was reminded of the bullet hole, the penetration punched harmlessly through skin and muscle. Now that he thought about, he could feel the slight edge to his nerves, a side effect of the painkillers that had no doubt been administered. That was going to hurt like hell once they wore off. The non-life threatening injuries often hurt all the more.

Beside him, Mordin continued glancing cautiously through the gloom, straining to hear the ominous sound of a missile being fired, but none was forthcoming. They made it across the open yard unscathed, and the two both let out a sigh of relief. Suddenly, the door slid open before them, encouraging them inside.

"Did they forget to lock the door?" Garrus asked, doubting their admittance had been accidental.

"Not sure, but doubtful. Probably expecting us."

"Damn, so you agree with me. You know, a month ago, I probably would have said screw her. Sounds like she was the mastermind behind this entire plan though. Somehow I don't think Shepard would be too happy if we left the Eclipse to their own devices here, either."

"Only wasting time. If not already detected, then may be soon. Should hurry," Mordin encouraged, apprehension clear in his voice.

Garrus wordlessly obeyed, following the Salarian down the now familiar tunnels, burrowing deeper and deeper underground. He had to fight a growing sense of claustrophobia as they continued. He hated the feeling of being trapped underground, with only one way out. They seemed just as eerily devoid of life as they had upon their first entrance.

In front of him, Mordin glanced down at his omnitool, following the map he had uploaded from the terminal. They wove through the meandering halls like rats in a maze, footsteps echoing loudly down the rocky paths, too loudly. Garrus wondered how every mercenary in the place hadn't come running to them. In some way, he wished they had, if only to dispel the growing sense of trepidation he felt building. The tension in the air seemed almost palpable, an entity unto itself.

Preoccupied with his thoughts, Garrus didn't notice the Salarian had stopped until he almost blundered into him. Stepping around him, Garrus almost sprinted down a flight of stairs, rushing around a rock outcropping at the bottom. Behind it, he came face to face with no less than seven Eclipse, all, without exception, having their guns drawn, aimed directly at his chest.

Shepard once again found himself blinking groggily, the rough touch of threadbare sheets against his arms. He glanced down, seeing the sensors placed against his chest, the electrical impulses they received transmitted to small blips on a monitor screen beside his bed.

A nurse bustled into the room, smiling down at him, an almost motherly gleam in her eyes. "You won't be leaving this time," she said sweetly, placing a tray on a table beside him.

"Like hell," Shepard said, sitting up, trying to swing his legs over the side of the bed. Swinging a hand out swiftly, she stopped him.

"You saw what happened last time. We're going to keep you here until we're sure there aren't any further complications."

"Complications? What exactly happened?"

"As far as we can tell, you don't handle alcohol very well."

"Guess not. I generally don't drink."

"That's probably a good policy to stick to in the future. Judging from how restless you seem now, I take it you don't enjoy being in the hospital."

"I'm pretty sure that's a universal sentiment," Shepard replied, a sigh escaping his lips.

"Yes, you're probably right. At least, if you do enjoy it, you're probably too masochistic for your own good."

"I can't argue there," Shepard agreed, deciding he didn't mind the plump woman who sat beside him. "I don't suppose you've seen a Quarian here?" hope coupled with apprehension apparent in his voice.

"Yes," the nurse responded, her voice trailing off uncomfortably.

"What's wrong?" he quickly asked, sliding out of the bed, refusing to allow her to push him back this time.

"Just lay back down," she pleaded. He ignored her frantic appeals, ripping the sensors of in a smooth motion. The screens behind him instantly began to flat line, screeching their shrill warnings as red lines flashed across the monitors. A doctor ran sprinted into the room at the time, looking confusedly at Shepard, standing angrily, glaring back at him, the nurse cowering fearfully beside him.

"Sir, we're going to have to ask you to lay down back down," he said, guessing things weren't going to be that easy.

"Get out of my way, I'm in a hurry," Shepard said, shoving him roughly to the side as he ran into the hallway, once again greeted by the calls of frantic staff urging him back inside. No one tried to stop him, however, remembering his last hurried exit. However, as he glanced around, he was also greeted by the sight of multitudes of uniformed officers. Many were congregated outside a one hospital door, a disheveled doctor speaking heatedly with one of the officials.

"Needs further monitoring," Shepard heard the doctor say.

"You've already said her vitals are stable. We need to take her in," replied the other.

"She isn't any immediate danger of dying now, but if you take her before she's at least had a chance to recover, she may relapse!"

"I don't give a damn if she relapses; she's one of the people responsible for the death of Councilor Anderson. We need to take her for an interrogation, find out where her two accomplices are," came the angry response. "And you can't stop us in any case." The officer brandished some papers clutched tightly in his fist in the doctor's face. "If she's been deemed stable, we have the authority of the Council to apprehend her."

Shepard followed behind the man as he shoved the doctor to the side, stepping quickly inside the room. Immediately, a second cop thrust out a hand, ceasing Shepard's progress. "Sorry, you don't have the authority to be in here."

"Get the hell out of my way, I'm Commander Shepard," he said angrily.

"Yeah, and I'm a Turian's ass. First of all, he's dead, secondly, even if he weren't, I don't think the Commander would be traipsing around a dumpy little human colony."

"Look at my face, asshole. I'm sure you've seen me around the news before."

"Anyone can have facial reconstruction surgery," the officer retorted. "The only way to prove who anybody really is through a DNA sample, and I don't have the time of the interest to do one to some little prick who thinks he's a tough son-of-a-bitch."

Shepard reached over and lifted the man off his feet by his collar. "I don't just think I'm one, I sure as hell am. Let me through before I mess up that face of yours."

His words were greeted by the cold barrel of a gun against his neck. "Put the man down, and get up against the wall," came a cold voice from behind him. With a final glare, he let go, and the man collapsed to the floor, quickly scampering away.

"I guess we can take you with your Quarian friend over there. There's plenty of room to fit both of you on that ship." At his words, Shepard finally stole a glance to his right, where he saw Tali, laying peacefully asleep on the hospital bed, unaware as a doctor reluctantly disabled the medical systems. Shepard watched, horrified, as an officer slid a vial into Tali's exosuit's medical unit. A moment later, he felt a small prick in the side of his neck, almost as if he had been stung by a wasp. He put a hand to the puncture, only to have the world grow fuzzy around him. He collapsed backwards, the last sensation he had before the world went black were the hands that stopped his fall, already beginning to drag him back out through the door.


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N: Well, I had to put out a chapter before schoolwork really started to slow me down, seeing as school starts back up again tomorrow. From here on out, I'll make it my goal to publish a chapter a week, but don't hold me to that. It all depends on the schedule. And, please, R & R, and enjoy!**

Chapter 19

In Pursuit

The world seemed frozen, time had no meaning. Garrus stood paralyzed, watching the mercenary before him, moving in apparent slow motion. A second stretched onward for hours, becoming an eternity. Suddenly, the world snapped back into sharp, lucid focus. Garrus's mind went blank, complex thoughts replaced by basic primal instinct. He jumped to the side as a spray of bullets shattered the harsh silence, ricocheting harmlessly from the solid concrete wall in scattershot patterns, the sounds of their impacts reverberating painfully as they echoed along the thick, cramped passages. He sprinted frantically up the staircase. At the top, he was faced with three more of the mercenaries, their gun barrels staring down at him cruelly. A gunshot from his right, and one of the mercenaries collapsed backwards; face smashed inwards from the heavy blast. At the sight of their fallen comrade, the other two remaining hurriedly tried to activate their shields that had until seconds prior been forgotten in the mad rush to head off the two intruders, trap them between a hammer and an anvil. Before the blue glow could completely encircle them, however, Mordin deftly peppered another's face, leaving it a messy, unrecognizable pulp. Garrus, already too near to the remaining opponent to fire off a burst from his assault rifle, settled for a quick blow to the man's jaw, feeling a satisfying snap.

From behind Garrus and Mordin's rapidly retreating backs, more gunfire followed, the bullets glancing off the walls, sending out showers of flashing sparks that flared to life. They died just as suddenly as they passed out of their momentary eminence against the stone floor. They managed to reach a curve in the tunnel, untouched by the Eclipse's ammunition.

Peering around the corner, Garrus saw a single mercenary crest the top of the stairs, the rest following in a slow procession. He was forced to pull back as his shields flashed ominously before his eyes, sudden death stopped only by a thin blue wall the glowed esoterically as it was greeted with the several, sudden impacts. His fingers curled instinctively around the barrel of his rifle, the familiar contours comforting in the foreign hostility of the underground hallways. He breathed in deeply, reveling in the feeling of his chest moving up and down, confirming his vitality. Without any further thought, Garrus leaned out around the corner, finger pressing the trigger. A deadly hail sprang forth, tearing apart the shields of the front two men, sending them sprawling back into the relentless approach. They quickly passed out of memory, lying dead, trampled, and forgotten under the heavy tread of their former friends and companions. Mordin sent another sprawling, his face a cold calculating mask. He stared down his targeting reticle, firing off round after precise round.

Garrus quickly lost track of how many mercenaries had fallen at their hands. They were cut down as soon as they reached the top step, falling quickly down once again, the thumps resounding loudly, the horrid sound of death. After a short time, Garrus once again peaked around the wall, only to find the endless waves had ceased, the underground silence once again deafening. Suddenly, the hush was pierced by a shout.

"Hello?" came the hopeful voice. A familiar voice.

Mordin led Garrus down the stairs, this time pausing at the outcropping of jagged rock at the bottom, wary of further ambushes. Peering around the edge, they saw only an empty atrium, a mirror image of the one in which they had found Tali. Sure enough, standing behind an identical set of bars set deep in a carved out stone slab, Miranda called out anxiously. Mordin quickly stepped out again, Garrus following more cautiously. He held his weapon tightly, whipping his gaze across the room in all directions. Being careless had almost just gotten him killed. He wasn't about to repeat his mistake.

"Thank God you're here," she whispered, lowering her voice as Mordin reached the cell, making quick work of the old, outdated lock. The door swung open, creaking loudly on rusted hinges. She stepped outside, letting out a breath that she felt like she had been holding for hours.

"Can talk later, have to leave now," Mordin urged. He looked apprehensively about, as if anticipating to be met with a spray of bullets, but the tense atmosphere remained quiet and undisturbed.

Not another word was spoken as they slipped back out the way they had come. Security cameras followed their determined progress to the surface, no one watching the monitors. The wall of screens stood abandoned, the man who had once passively observed the feeds, now himself lay on the floor, his blood staining the cold, uncaring stone.

In the final room before the compound's exit, they were stopped as Miranda stepped across to the vacated terminal, the body cleared away; a small red stain caked into the leather chair the only sign of its former existence.

"Come on, we need to get out of here," Garrus nearly shouted, only managing to check the volume at the last second. "We don't know how many people are in this place. There could be people coming down that hallway any second!" He gesticulated animatedly in the direction of the closed door that led away into the belly of the fortress.

"It'll just be a second. I need to scan the computer for files. If there isn't any information here, this entire trip was a waste of time," she replied, not looking up from the terminal.

"Already checked," Mordin spoke up, turning to look over his shoulder as he did so. "Found message from Nyxeris. Text deleted, but address remained. Nothing else of interest."

Miranda stood up again, absently brushing small specks of dust from her knees, grimacing as her still injured hand pushed uncomfortable downwards, jarring the crudely stitched flap of skin. Medigel had stopped the bleeding, and sped up the healing process, but it didn't fix everything. Muscles took a long time to weave themselves back together. In the meantime, all she could do was practice shooting her weapon left-handed. After all her father had done to make her the perfect tool, he had somehow forgotten to make her ambidextrous.

As they exited the building, Garrus and Mordin already listening to the familiar, yet no less disconcerting, hissing that came with the firing of a missile. However, the silence was as thick as the fog that still blanketed the landscape. The rain still fell relentlessly, angrily driving against the three companions, reminding them who was really in control. The rain had fallen for years on Proteus without a relapse, and would likely continue for countless ages to come.

The car waited resolutely where they had left it, the doors swinging open as they approached, welcoming them inside. They quickly pulled away from the fortress, leaving it behind for the last time. Garrus couldn't help but smile to himself as they drove away, eager to leave the place far behind.

"I think it's time for to you to explain why we came here," Garrus said, turning accusingly to look at the only human passenger.

"I rechecked the Eclipse site after we had already ambushed their men. Somehow they knew we were behind the attacks, and they were on the lookout for the Atlantic. I thought if we could infiltrate the base, we could wipe the files, keep us out of sight and out of mind."

"You thought five us could storm a fortified mercenary base?" Garrus asked incredulously.

"They were bound to find us if we didn't. I figured it was better should it come to fighting, we do it on our terms."

"And when were you planning on telling us?"

"I was going to, but then Shepard needed the hospitalization, and it slipped my mind. I didn't get too much of an opportunity after that, due to our kidnapping and such." She looked around the car, seeming to notice Tali's absence for the first time. "Where's?" she started, Garrus answering her question before she could even voice it.

"We found her in a different cell block. Her mask was broken, and she didn't stay conscious too long after we found her."

"Oh my God, is she okay?"

"From what it looked like at the hospital, she was going to pull, though. We couldn't stick around to find out. Never leave anyone behind, learned that from Shepard a long time ago on the Sr-1." Garrus's mind drifted back to the memory, after Kaiden's death. He had told Garrus to not do what he had done, save himself from the guilt. If only he had listened, back on Omega during his brief stint as Archangel.

The rest of the drive passed in silence, the lights in the city once again illuminating the darkness, orbs of light growing larger behind the thick, impenetrable haze. The heavy clouds were no longer even illuminated from behind by the feeble attempts of a star to finally cast its light upon the surface, only to once again be thwarted. Even the faint gray had left, the storm reveling in its unrivaled blackness, the only sign the colony ever received of nighttime.

The streets were largely abandoned, only the occasional vehicle disturbing the small pools collected in the roads, the wind sending ripples across their calm surface. Garrus didn't notice when they had arrived at the hospital. He only registered the flashing lights outside as a vehicle pulled away, exiting towards the docks. However, before the door had closed, he was able to catch a fleeting glimpse of a purple veil disappearing behind the closing door.

"Damn it!" he suddenly shouted. "What the hell is going on?"

Suddenly, comprehension dawned on Miranda. "We're wanted for murder. Remember what Liara said? The three of us, Garrus. They found her once she was registered in the hospital."

"We have to go in and tell Shepard," Garrus urged.

"No, he'll be fine. He wasn't there when it happened. Neither was Mordin. It's only the three of us, Garrus."

"We have to go after her," Garrus said suddenly. He slammed the car forward, their heads all jerking forward at the sudden, violent acceleration. "If I remember correctly, the punishment for killing a counselor is death. They'll be going to the Citadel."


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

Reconciliation

When she regained consciousness, it was not underneath the covers of a hospital bed she woke up to, listening to the rhythmic humming of the heartbeat monitor. Rather, she was greeted by dreary grey walls. Tali tried to move her arm, but found she was unable. She blinked her eyes open, glad to see a temporary mask had at least been mercifully fitted neatly into her helmet. As her still groggy brain slowly processed the sight, though, she noticed, to her dismay, that rather than the familiar polarized purple she had become so familiar with, this one was clear, transparent.

However, she had not the luxury to dwell upon this fact, her mind quickly torn away. She once again tried futilely to move, her arms and legs held fast by some unseen device. She tried to look down, but found she was unable to even shift her head. Her vision was locked firmly on a small square of wall before her. The room seemed oddly silent, and although she could feel the slight gravitational fluxuations that came inherently with space travel, she couldn't even hear the slight purr of a motor. The effect was disconcerting. She closed her eyes, trying to forget the situation, perhaps at least cure the rising sense of nausea she felt building in her stomach, knowing the effort would be useless. Still, better to see the calm black than the unshifting spot of wall, that, try as she might, Tali could not tear her eyes away from.

She didn't know how long they had been traveling when they finally slowed to a stop, the weight pressing down as the ship slowly pulled into a port somewhere. Tali strained to understand why she was here, but all she could remember was the inside of a vehicle, beside Garrus, Shepard lying across her. Her mask had been smashed. How had it been replaced? Certainly even if she had been in the hospital in the human colony they wouldn't have had masks made for Quarians on hand. But the mask she wore now had been clear. Not Quarian made, they hadn't made unpolarized visors in centuries. It must have been grafted from on-hand material.

That still didn't explain how she had ended up here. She tried to focus her thoughts, but she could feel the onset of a fever beginning to cloud them. Wearily, she mentally resigned herself her to a bad one. Under normal circumstances, she could work through a minor fever, had gotten used to the fatigue, the aches that came with them. Still, she remained conscious, which was more than she could have hoped for hours ago, or however long it had been when she finally succumbed to the infection. The fact that she was aware, however, gave her no help in her current predicament.

Out of nowhere, a man suddenly stepped into her field of vision. He looked hatefully into her fully visible face, his eyes narrowing in blatant disgust. A Turian followed. The latter began to say something to the human, his mouth moving, no sound reaching Tali's ears. The human shook his head angrily, and then turned back to where Tali hung suspended. On a council just barely too low for her eyes to follow, he began to tap a sequence of controls, and suddenly the invisible clamps were released.

She fell helplessly to the ground, wincing in pain as her knee struck against something hard jutting from the floor. Strong hands gripped at her shoulders, forcing her none too gently to her feet. As she stood, she noticed the slight shaking in her knees, her muscles weakened from the sickness.

Before she was pulled from the room, struggling unsuccessfully against her captors, she saw Shepard as he allowed himself to be lead in the opposite direction. He was arguing with one of the men, glances exchanged in her direction, Shepard's a feeble attempt at reassurance, the other's cold and venomous.

Tali was about to call out after him when a door closed before her eyes, sealing her from him. Her attempts at escape became less forceful with each passing second, and she felt what little strength she had slowly ebbing.

It wasn't until they had been navigating the twisting maze of corridors for what felt like a lifetime did she finally register their location. The doors, sealed off, halls that led to dead ends, old passages now locked and covered with warning labels. Small collections of dirt and assorted debris were piled against the walls, looking like miniscule mountains. The Citadel.

Further into the Wards, they eventually arrived at locked door. A quick scan of one of the men's identification tags and it slid quickly open. The small band continued unimpeded once again, dragging Tali past rows upon rows of cells. Some were empty, others occupied by the various species of the galaxy. Several pounded on the clear plastic, their pleas unheard through the thick glass. Others sat forlornly on small beds in the far corner of their miniature prisons, long since abandoning hope. Halfway down the hall, one of the few places in the Citadel that still gleamed with the hint of a white shimmer, they reached yet another cell, this one with the door open and waiting. Tali was pushed unceremoniously inside, stumbling as her feet were unable to catch up, and she pitched forward. She lay on the floor, no longer having the energy to pull herself to her feet. She heard her tormentors talking before the door slid sealed her off from communication from outside.

"Damn criminals get better accommodations than we do."

"I tell you, it's a crime in itself."

"I still don't see why we can't just shovel all that crap that's outside in here. Maybe they would finally have a chance to sleep with the cockroaches."

"I wonder if that's why crime is up recently. People just want to stay in our fine hotel."

They continued to talk as they walked back to the desk in front, their conversation muted by the thick, see-through walls. Shortly after their departure, a guard, his shirt ironed without a crease, buttoned neatly up to the neck, strode past. He held a shotgun loosely over his shoulder. She wondered if he even knew how to use it, or if it was simply a tool of intimidation.

She was here, a prisoner on the Citadel. They thought she was a criminal. What had she done? Was this going to be on a charge of vagrancy, yet another of the crosses her people will still forced to bear? Not all the Quarians' problems had been solved by finally settling on a planet, scrapping the fleet for parts. A thought hung in the back of her mind; however, like an insect flitting around her head, just staying out of sight. She tried to focus on it, but her thoughts kept slipping away. She just wanted to go to sleep, the fever continuing to sap her strength. Merely thinking became a laborious task.

Suddenly, the clouds lifted momentarily from her mind as she finally latched onto the idea that had been floating just out of reach. Anderson. Wanted for murder. Capital punishment. Keelah. How long did that leave her? When would the trial begin? Would she even be allowed one? Even if she was, she doubted the proceeding would last any significant length of time, and they would certainly find her guilty, in spite of her innocence in the affair. The fact remained, she had no evidence to prove it. And where did that leave Shepard? They had found him as well, had he been associated with the crime she had never committed? Had the others been apprehended as well? Too many questions, none with any definite answers. Slowly, her eyelids began to slide closed. She tried to force them open again, tried desperately to think of a way out. Nothing presented itself, and she found herself losing the battle to stay awake. In a matter of minutes, she was asleep, the fever sending shivers along her body even as a sweat broke out along her forehead. Sleep, the medicine that cured all, all save for her situation.

* * *

On the other end of the room, Shepard pulled his shirt back over his head, a nurse pulling a needle from his arm. She fed the blood into a machine. After a few seconds that passed in silent anticipation, a reading appeared on the terminal. _Adam Shepard. Eyes: Blue. Hair: Brown. Age: 33. Known medical issues: None. Allergies: None on record. History: Special Tactics and Reconnaissance, appointed by Citadel Council in 2183. Reappointed by new Council in 2185. Issued top security clearance, operates outside governmental jurisdiction. _

The nurse looked up to his face, tracing the outline of a scar from an accident on Earth a lifetime ago, or rather, two lifetimes ago. He had long since forgotten the details, the ancient wound now just another distinguishing feature, a part of the landscape.

"I apologize for the inconvenience, Commander," said the woman, a slight intonation of awe in her voice.

"Tell your superiors next time not to arrest someone who operates outside their authority," he said angrily.

"I apologize again, Sir. We had no way of knowing it was you, especially after the reports of your death," she said, beginning to become exasperated.

"I would have thought people had learned to disregard those reports a long time ago," he responded in kind.

"What were we supposed to believe? The Council itself told people you were KIA when you went against the terrorist leaders' base of operations."

"They told you what?" Shepard asked incredulously. He cut off the response with a wave of his hand. "No, never mind. I should have known those political bastards would try to hide it. As to my being KIA, let's just say I took a short vacation. It seems the Councilors may have wanted be stay away a little longer than that. They seem to be of the opinion that I can be more trouble than I'm worth. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have more important things to do than try to explain myself to you."

He brushed agitatedly passed her, pulling a new set of credentials from the out-slot of the identification machine as he passed. His omnitool had been returned, and he accessed a map of the Citadel. Scanning across the assorted Wards levels, he finally found the cells. Shutting the device off, he walked with determined strides through the twisting, degenerating halls. He couldn't help but wonder what had happened since he had last been on the previously magnificent station that could have brought about its saddening downfall.

He didn't reflect long, however, focusing on the task at hand. Up an elevator. Turn left at the third door in the maintenance wing. Down the small flight of stairs to the security wing. A guard stopped him, but pulled away with a glance at the ID papers. With each passing landmark, he mentally checked off a step on the way to his destination.

He finally arrived, marveling at the clean sterility of his new surroundings. As he began to walk past the doors, he was interrupted by a shout from behind. "Hey! What are you doing here?" the unseen speaker accused.

He sighed deeply, controlling his annoyance at the new disruption. "Please don't interfere with the work of a Council Spectre. I'm far beyond the limits of your jurisdiction."

"Look, we've already told you Shepard's dead. Either you stop now, or we add resisting arrest to your charges."

"I'm really starting to get tired off all this doubt as to my identity." Shepard breathed deeply, tapping into his last reserves of patience. "I now have the identity results to back up my claim." Once again thrusting the papers into someone's hands, he stood waiting. Finally, after a second's hesitation, the papers were returned again.

"Alright, go on then," came the reply, the speaker still seeming to hesitate. "Sorry for the trouble. We had to believe the reports that you were dead." The man's apology didn't seem at all convincing, but Shepard didn't waste time beginning a petty argument. The individual cells blurred together, the occupants indistinguishable from the white backdrop. Once face replaced the one that proceeded, none standing out in memory. Then, he stopped. On the floor of one of the rooms, he saw Tali, chest rising and falling peacefully in slumber. A scan of his credentials quickly overrode the locking mechanism, the door disappearing smoothly into the egg-white walls on either side.

He paused for a moment, almost loathe to disturb her. He smiled as he watched her face, eyes closed peacefully, the faintest hint of a smile gracing her face. He closed his eyes moment, giving her a few more moments in her dreams before he shook her shoulder. She stirred, eyes blinking rapidly, trying to adjust to the brilliantly lit surroundings. She looked around confusedly, pulling away, panicked. Then, the look slowly softened, exchanged for one of perplexity.

"Shepard? I thought, I thought they took you?"

"Yeah, well, have you ever tried detaining a pissed off Spectre? It's not the easiest thing in the world to do."

"I imagine," she said chuckling. Suddenly, her thoughts turned to their last conversation, only two days prior. It seemed so much longer. They hadn't seen each other conscious ever since that moment. "Shepard, I'm sorry." She looked down at her booted feet, too ashamed to meet his gentle gaze.

He reached under her chin, tilting her head slowly upward, looking into her eyes no longer hidden. "Please, don't be. The only thing I want to hear is that you've changed your mind."

"Do you really even need to ask?" she said, a slow smile creeping across her face, her eyes sparkling.

"You always did have trouble making up your mind," Shepard responded, returning the smile gladly, barely able to contain his inner ecstasy.

Tali's smile faded once again, and she turned her eyes back down to the floor. "I don't know why I did that. I just felt so," she searched for the right word. "So hopeless. I thought it was the only way things could ever be. If one of us died, or something, I couldn't put you through what I went through."

"Tali, I don't care about that. Haven't I already proved that?"

"Yes, Adam. Believe me, the feeling has long since passed."

"God, it's good hearing you call me that again. I love you, Tali. Always. And don't ever scare me like that again."

"I promise. And I love you too, Adam. It feels good to be calling you that again too," she added, with another smile, wider than the first.

Shepard reached out and took her thin hand in his own, and the two embraced tightly for the first time in months.

When they finally broke apart, Tali stared up into his eyes once more. "You know, suddenly all our problems seem so inconsequential."

"I was thinking the same thing," Shepard replied. "But, unfortunately they're still there. We need to get going, quickly."

"Somehow, I don't think it's going to be that easy," Tali said, turning and beginning to pace. She marveled at how much better she felt after her sleep. How long had she been out?

"You're underestimating my influence as a Spectre." He smiled mischievously, pulling out his pistol. With a quick snap of his thumb, the safety clicked into place. "I'm not completely sure you're going to like this too much, though."

"Keelah, don't tell me you're walking me out of here at gunpoint?" she asked, glaring at him accusingly.

"It's that or stay here! Which would you prefer?"

"Fine, I'll play along here, but next time, I get to hold the gun."

"Alright, you have a deal." Shepard reached out his hand, mocking the gesture of a promise. Tali shook it, never letting her eyes leave his.

"If you go back on this, you do know that I'm going to kill you, right?" she asked innocently.

"I wouldn't expect anything less."

They moved back through the door, waiting silently as it slid apart with a pneumatic hiss. Down the hallway, the floor subtly sloping upwards as it did so. In the event of a jailbreak, give the defenders the high ground. No jailbreak today, though. The captives were never here long enough to plan anything elaborate, anyway. Just a temporary stop while plans were made for the captives to be moved to a place with tighter security. The people kept the Citadel generally weren't the type to escape, in any case. Petty crimes, small-time robberies, generally nothing that would prove a real threat to security in the unlikely event that someone should escape.

At the top of the slope, the man who had tried to stop Shepard earlier once again blocked his path. "Just what in the hell are you doing?"

"Well, it would seem I'm taking this Quarian in for questioning, wouldn't it?"

"I'm afraid I can't allow one of my prisoners to be let out before they've had a trial."

"There really isn't anything you can do to stop me, considering my authority supersedes your own. Look at it this way, if she does somehow manage to escape, which she won't, the responsibility will fall to me."

"Except no one is going to charge a Spectre. When you people screw up, the responsibility falls on our shoulders. Yet another reason everybody should be answerable to someone other than themselves."

"Okay, Mr.?"

"Greene."

"Mr. Greene, I'm sorry if this causes you any inconvenience, but I'm questioning this prisoner whether you approve or not, I really don't give a damn. I'll put it to you this way: if you move, everything is great, and I'm on my way. If you continue hindering my progress, then I raise hell with your superiors, and I go on my anyway. So please, just make this easy for both of us," Shepard said, keeping his voice soft and level, as if they had just been exchanging pleasantries.

The officer reluctantly stepped to the side. "As you wish, Your Highness," he said snidely as Shepard passed.

"Your Highness. I like the sound of that. Maybe you could tell your friends to call me that instead of Commander from now on," Shepard replied jovially.

They felt Greene's eyes boring holes in their backs until the door once again sealed him from view. "My God, that guy had a stick up his ass," Shepard observed.

"I was do busy focusing on the gun in my back to notice," Tali said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

"I missed you Tali. This is the best I've felt since coming back to life again. This is the first time I actually feel alive."

"For what it's worth, this is the first time I have too, ever since," she let the sentence linger. They both knew what she meant.

"All right, we can continue this later, but right now, it's essential that we get out of here. I'm sure you won't complain if we put some distance between the Citadel and ourselves."

"I'd be glad too."

They walked down the deserted hallways, weaving in and out of countless doorways, hand in hand.

* * *

The docking bay was empty, save for a few lone ships. Nestled neatly between a small privately owned yacht and a tour vessel, rested the Atlantic. Shepard stood dumbfounded for a moment before he quickly regained his composure. "It looks like we won't need to hitch a ride off this place, and I guess that means at least one of the others is okay."

"We don't know that," Tali countered. "What if they're still, I mean what if someone else took the ship?"

"For now, I'd rather not consider that possibility. We need to search this place. Until we find out otherwise, I'll assume they're fine."

"Alright, let's go. I really would like to get out of here," Tali said, the faintest hint of nervousness creeping into her voice.

"Don't you want me to take you out dinner first?"

"Not where they're as likely to bring out a pair of handcuffs as they are the check."

"You can be such a downer sometimes, you know that?"

"I'd still love a dinner. I hear Illium has some good places."

"Perfect. Maybe Liara can recommend something. Speaking of which, once we track down the other three, we do need to see Liara. I don't know if it means anything or not, but Nyxeris was in contact with the Eclipse."

"I think it's safe to assume something isn't right, then," Tali said, seeming to drift into thought. "In that case, I guess you will be taking out on Illium."

"I can't wait," Shepard responded, smiling once again as the two embraced tightly once more.

**A/N: Well, considering the endings of the last chapters have been such downers, I thought I'd end this one on a happier note. And my first week at school went better than expected, so I got this thing out in less than a week! Hooray! Please R & R, although by now you all already know that. Just thought I'd throw it out there for the sake of tradition. Have a good one!**


	21. Chapter 21

**A/N: I apologize for the long wait for this update, I've used all my spare time to type this out. Unfortunately, my spare time meant I got in about five minutes a day, if I was lucky. Once again, read, review, and all that jazz! And hooray! You guys did it, we finally passed the 10,000 views mark! Thank you to everyone who's read so far. Please enjoy chapter 21!**

Chapter 21

Five

_Message Sent. _All that was left to do was wait. They didn't have to linger long, the glowing incoming communication indicator pulsing with a soft light almost as soon as the note had been sent.

Her two deft fingers played lightly across the glowing surface of her omnitool, flawlessly navigating the mess of menus and icons displayed on the small screen. In a matter of seconds, a Turian face appeared on the display. After a few more taps, the image was projected above the instrument, illuminated by a gentle stream of light.

"Shepard, Tali, I have to say this is a pleasant surprise," said the Turian in the hologram. "I thought we were going to have to rescue you yet again."

"Garrus, you know I'm the one whose job it is to pull you all from the fire. And I have to say, I haven't been disappointed on that front so far." Shepard turned and winked at Tali. "You guys seem to have a penchant for getting into trouble."

"We were doing fine before you decided to rejoin us," Garrus smirked. "Not that I'm complaining or anything. I'd hate for you to go and kill yourself out of guilt to the countless tribulations you've brought crashing down on our heads."

"Believe me, if I'm planning on killing anyone right now, it sure as hell isn't myself."

"No need to get nasty, just making an observation," Garrus said, hands raised in mock submission. "But it is really good to see you and Tali without a pair of handcuffs. I could have sworn I saw C-Sec take you away from the hospital in a couple stasis modules."

"That you did, we just got bored in captivity, so we asked politely and all was forgiven."

"Oh if only life really were that easy," Garrus sighed, shaking his head slightly.

"Yes indeed," Tali agreed. "Where are Mordin and Miranda?" she asked suddenly, noticing their extended absence from the conversation.

"We split up."

"Wouldn't you know exactly where we were being held? You did work here for years before you decided to come with us," Tali said, perplexed.

"We didn't do it to find you guys; we did it because of the murder charges. If they catch one of us they don't necessarily get all of us. If we're going to be caught, might as well make it a pain in the ass for them."

"That's the spirit!" Shepard said mockingly. "Now, Garrus, stay where you are, we're going to come meet you. Try to stay unobtrusive, although if you feel the burning desire to start shooting something, I won't stop you. Just don't get caught."

"Thanks for loosening the leash, Master," Garrus responded. "By the way, I haven't told you were I am. Probably best to leave it that way, on the off chance somebody's listening in."

"You don't have to tell us for Tali and I to be able to see where you're standing. People may be listening, but they don't have access to the vid screen. If you can, ask Mordin and Miranda to hold up. It certainly would make tracking them down easier, too."

"Can do, Shepard. Just don't take too long, you know how I sometimes do things I later regret when I get bored."

"Like I said, if you need to break something, just do it quietly. I'm fine as long as you don't start red sand."

"I worked C-Sec for several years; I've seen what that stuff does to people. I don't think I'm in any danger."

"See you in a few."

Shepard cut the connection, turning to face Tali. He lowered his voice so only she could hear. "He's on Zakera Ward, pretty close to where we found that Quarian and the Volus arguing about his credit chit a few years ago."

"I wonder what happened to her?" Tali wondered aloud.

"I don't know, but now isn't the time to be getting sentimental."

"Do I have to wait for this dinner on Illium to ask any questions?" she asked jokingly.

"I'd say yes, but I find it next to impossible that we'll even make it to Zakera before you start asking more questions." He smiled down at her, and she returned the glance in kind, the gesture no longer wasted, no longer hidden behind a cold shell. Her eyes gleamed with a pale luminescence, his eyes gently running across the gentle contours of her face.

"Come on, let's go pick up Garrus," Tali urged, breaking the peaceful silence. "You know we can't leave him on his own for too long."

He reluctantly nodded, allowing her to lead the way down the twisting corridors. They paused at each turn, looking anxiously down the deserted halls, wary of running into any of the C-Sec officers sure to be making their rounds along the Wards. It didn't do much anymore, crime so rampant among the few who still couldn't afford passage on a ship off the station, that whenever one person was arrested, three more would take his place. The officers had grown complacent, overlooking all but the most significant offences. The suspected murder of a Councilor surely placed them under the "significant offences" category. Shepard could always try to bluff his way through a confrontation, as he had before, but it was better for everyone involved if they could stay out of sight and mind for as long as possible. No one believed he was doing anything other than questioning her; as far as either of them knew, they hadn't even taken a full ID scan on the Quarian. Nothing to indicate their past history, certainly.

They rounded a bend, but stopped as a small party of Turians drunkenly stumbled over to where they stood, perplexed. The other group pulled up short, a single individual stepping forward, seemingly the only sober one in the bunch, the ringleader. He brushed past Tali, seeming to take no notice of her as she stumbled to the side, surprised at the sudden, forceful contact. He paused in front of Shepard, glaringly angrily at the human, each staring the other down intently.

"Can I help you? If not, you might want to step aside. I'm not known for extraordinary patience, and I'm in a bit of a hurry here," Shepard said, keeping his voice level.

"You humans are always in a damn hurry. In a hurry to get an embassy, in a hurry to get a Spectre, in a hurry to get a Council seat, in a hurry to get all of us other species out of your way."

"Do you have a problem with me?" Shepard asked, stepping forward menacingly. The Turian regarded the movement, eyes appraising the armor, the weapons.

"I have a problem with all of you humans. Things have always been bad around here ever since humans took us over. It's only gotten worse since that one Councilor got shot. We were about to get back into politics, we were going to have a voice again. Now we're stuck here, can't even pay our way off this hell, and that one Councilor left has the nerve to retract the offer for another Council seat."

"And what exactly do you expect me to do about it?"

"I don't expect you to do anything. I've long since given up on any of you to try to do anything about it. You humans don't seem to care what the other species go through as long as you're on top of the heap. You've been here for 30 years, if that, and already you seem to think you should be in charge of the other species here, the ones who've known about the Citadel for thousands of years."

"He doesn't have any problem with other species," Tali suddenly spoke up, stepping angrily forward from against the wall. "Do you have any idea what he's done for you?"

"How the hell could I? I don't know who he is. You, on the other hand, look slightly familiar," the Turian trailed off, cocking his head to the side, trying to place where he had seen your face before. Suddenly, realization struck him. "Wait a minute, you're that Quarian who killed Anderson! It's your fault we're being subjugated by those human bastards," he shouted, gesturing wildly in Shepard's direction to emphasize his words. He then surged forward and pinned her against the wall, shoulder jostling painfully as it made contact with the hard surface. His action was met with a strong punch across the jaw that sent him sprawling to the floor, grimacing as he clutched at the bruise that had already begun to form. One of the Turians who lingered further back in the alley clumsily stumbled forward, meaning to defend his comrade who struggled to his feet, but pitched drunkenly forward instead, falling comically on his face on the filthy floor.

"Are you okay?" Shepard asked Tali as she gingerly rolled her shoulder in gentle circles, trying to work out the pain from the sudden, forceful collision. She nodded, the grimace clear on her face. He caught her up in a quick embrace, then turned furiously towards the Turian who once again stood on his feet, murderous rage slowly fading as the pain gradually wore off. Shepard stalked forward menacingly, pushing the Turian roughly in the chest, so that he stumbled backward several steps before regaining his balance. "If I ever hear you accusing her of anything like that again, I swear to God I will personally tear your throat out. Try saying anything after that happens."

"Shepard, just forget about it," Tali called anxiously. "We have to find Garrus!"

"Garrus? Garrus Vakarian?" the Turian suddenly said, clearly surprised.

"Name mean anything to you?" Shepard asked, suddenly suspicious.

"Of course!" the alien exclaimed, demeanor relaxing slightly. "I worked with him in C-Sec for a year or two. We weren't exactly close friends, but we went out for a drink a couple of times. What do you want with him?" he asked eyes narrowing. "Planning on killing him like you did Anderson? Going to try to make things even worse for us?"

"Look at the security footage again. He's another one of the accused. Maybe that'll change your mind about my friend's innocence," Shepard said accusingly, voice softly threatening.

"No, that can't have been him," the Turian said, suddenly sounding hesitant, unsure. "That just looked like him, the picture wasn't exactly high resolution."

"It was him, check it again. Have you ever considered that maybe somebody set them up? Things like that have happened before. Surely you've seen your fair sure of wrongly convicted people in your time at C-Sec."

"I did," he reluctantly admitted. "More than I'd like to admit, actually. We weren't perfect."

"Good, in that case, we're going to go, and I'm going to personally help them clear their names, hopefully catch the bastard responsible for this in the first place."

"Well, in that case, good luck," the Turian said hesitantly, still not completely convinced, but stepping aside nonetheless.

* * *

Garrus hid in the shadows, visible only to the most observant of passersby, waiting unobtrusively in a corner of the Wards as his eyes scanned the crowd for a familiar face. After an agonizing eternity of waiting, he finally saw who he was looking for. He hurried across the open space towards Shepard and Tali, head bowed, marking hidden from the security cameras. He fluidly spun his momentum to meet up with them, now walking beside them. "It's about time you got here," he muttered. "I was starting to get worried."

"You should know by now that Adam wouldn't be Adam unless he was fashionably late," Tali responded.

"Yes, well, Adam," Garrus said, stressing the Commander's name mockingly, "sometimes it's better to try and be on time."

"In my defense, we were held up in an alley back there by a few Turians. One of them said he worked with you in C-Sec," Shepard replied conversationally.

"Huh, I would have thought all the former C-Sec officers would have cleared out by now," Garrus thought aloud.

"He said he couldn't afford a ticket off the Citadel," Tali added.

"Really? The job never made anyone rich, but in my time we definitely made enough to buy boarding on a flight, especially with prices were they are now."

"You think he was lying?" Shepard asked.

"It's possible, but now that I think about it, not likely. Ever since the human council, Turians have grown less and less influential. From what I've seen on the news recently, they've actually been completely replaced aside from a couple dozen high ranking officers who would be more trouble than they're worth to replace. If Turian salaries dropped along with their standing, that would explain things much better."

"I thought Anderson was working with the other Councilors to put aliens back on the Council, though," Tali said, puzzled. "I thought the other Councilor who was still alive was with Anderson on that. Why couldn't they have reinstated Turian C-Sec positions?"

"For some reason, the other Councilor has rescinded the offer," Garrus said, a note of anger finding its way into his voice.

"That's what that other Turian said," Shepard interjected. "I still don't understand it, though. From what I heard before I died again," he said, Tali cringing slightly at the mention of his death, "that Kuznetsov guy sided with Anderson on most issues."

As they walked forward, Garrus lead the way towards where he had seen Miranda and Mordin in the vid messages. Soon, the other two had been reunited with the group, and finally together again, they began to walk for the docks, the temporary pilot they had hired from Proteus waiting for their arrival. On the way, Tali's omnitool began to flash, an incoming message received. Coming to a stop, the other gradually slowing as she called out to them, she opened the message. She hadn't recognized the signature of the caller, but her questions were soon answered as the image of a Drell appeared on the small screen.

"Kolyat?" she said quietly. The figure nodded, then began to speak.

"Tali, right? I need to talk to you, and the others who were with you when my father entered the afterlife."

"How did you get this signature?" Tali asked curiously.

"I found it in my father's list of needed contacts. I recognized your name, and I needed to speak with you."

"You went through Thane's possessions after he died?" Tali questioned incredulously.

"I didn't want to, but it was urgent I speak with someone. My father's death was more than an accident."

Garrus had reached her side by this statement, had he stopped suddenly, wondering if he had heard the message correctly.

"Did you say Thane's death was more than just Kepral's?" he inquired.

"The Kepral's was what killed him in the end, but I did some research with certain access codes I obtained in my short time as an assassin. The Hanar had a cure developed, they were about to put it into the final testing phases several weeks before he died, but the tests were sabotaged. Someone destroyed the research and killed the scientists who had information on the antidote's composition."

Tali turned to face Garrus, eyes widening in shock. "Keelah, do you think someone was trying to stop Thane from receiving the cure?"

"I don't know, maybe someone had a vendetta or something," Garrus said uncertainly.

"Garrus, think about it. Someone has been killing people who worked with Shepard. If they went around killing everyone with guns, that would be even more conspicuous. If they had the opportunity to make the death seem accidental or inevitable, don't you think they would take it?"

The other three quickly joined the small group huddled around the light of the omnitool as Kolyat once again recounted the story for the new arrivals. Miranda quickly came to the same conclusion as Tali, Mordin agreeing to the logic behind such a method of attack.

"Five of us killed," Miranda breathed quietly. The sudden revelation cast the other deaths once again in sharp focus, the situation seeming more dire by the second.

"Kolyat, we need to speak with you in person," Shepard spoke over the connection. The young Drell nodded his assent. "Could you meet us on Illium? I'll disclose further information once we're there, that'll give us time to set up a more secure connection. If you have enough credits, we can repay the cost when you arrive." Kolyat nodded once more, then closed the connection.

"We need to get to Illium now," Shepard said. "We have to see Liara anyway, maybe she could help us further."

The other four nodded. The group proceeded towards the Atlantic in silence, each reflecting on the implications of what they had just been told.


	22. Chapter 22

**Well, here we are, Porcupinetheater's weekend update! (Hmm, sounds like the name of some crappy cable news broadcast...) I'm sorry about the much larger update gaps, but school's pretty much consuming all my spare time. And now: the obligatory read and review, blah blah blah, heard it before on both this and other stories plenty, I know. But still, reading a review is the best gift a reader can give an author. Maybe you can all pretend it's my birthday, and send me a birthday review! (And then some more on real birthday in twenty days, perhaps?)**

**But now that that boring stuff is out of the way...please enjoy chapter 22!  
**

Chapter 22

Afternoon Sun

She stood alone, watching through a window as the ship slowly began to sink into Illium's gravity, the bright space dock bustling with fevered activity, lights shining beautifully as they cut through the inky night, a guiding beacon. Why did she regret the silence now? She had lived by herself for years, perfectly content with her self-sufficient lifestyle. What had changed?

When she had met up with the four of them back on the Citadel before they had been contacted by Kolyat, she had seen them walking side by side, hand in hand. Tali had smiled up into his face as he returned the gaze gladly, his worry melting away as if it were nothing. What had Tali had that she hadn't? She recalled the time on the Normandy almost a year ago. She had dropped none-too-subtle hints about her feelings. He had been even clearer that he wasn't interested in her.

She allowed herself the luxury of shedding a single tear, tracing a thin streak down her left cheek. If she was perfect, why wasn't she wanted?

She heard the door slide open behind her. Quickly wiping the tear away with the back of her hand, she turned to face the newcomer.

"Shepard says to come to the airlock, we're about to dock," Tali said, smiling slightly. Miranda watched the slight spring in her step as she walked away, _probably to rejoin the Commander by his side_, she thought angrily. She immediately looked down guiltily, ashamed of the thought. The Quarian girl hadn't meant to insult her, she couldn't have known her thoughts. So why couldn't she shake the revulsion she felt?

* * *

Tali stood beside Shepard in the airlock, the other three slowly arriving. The ship began to slow as it began its long descent into one of the many docks scattered across the surface of the planet. Shepard's eyes roamed over the crew, checking each one in turn. They lingered slightly longer on Tali, just enough for the difference to be noticeable. She returned the gaze, stepping slightly closer, her shoulder brushing against his softly, hand gently squeezing his. He smiled gently as he completed the gesture, twining his five fingers with her three.

Suddenly, they felt the gentle shudder of the docking clamps as they attached themselves to the sides of the hull, locking gingerly in place at the dockside. The door swished open, the warm, humid air rushing in to greet them. They stepped out into the mid-afternoon light, the dock bustling with hundreds of people from every species, rushing past, intent on their business.

"Liara said she moved often," Miranda said. "Is it safe to assume she'd be where we last saw her?"

"What are you talking about?" Shepard asked confused.

"Liara's being hunted just as we are. Last we heard, she had evaded them, but was on the run," Miranda responded.

"Then shouldn't we send her a message, at least? Before we go breaking down the door to some place that might be abandoned, for all we know," Shepard said, opening his omnitool as he spoke, preparing a message.

"That wouldn't work," Tali said quietly, speaking more to herself than anyone else.

"What do you mean it wouldn't work?" Shepard asked. He looked up to see the other three nodding in agreement.

"Shepard, you never did have much tech training, did you?" Garrus asked sarcastically.

"I never exactly had the opportunity, I spent enough of my time training in weapons, and developing my biotics. Adding another thing on to that felt like overkill. And why should it matter if I've had tech training? I know how to send a message from my omnitool."

"Shepard, if she's on the run, she would've changed her omnitool's readout by now," Tali said apologetically.

"How would Liara have done that? She doesn't have any more technical knowledge than I do!" Shepard said vehemently, glaring angrily at Garrus as he did so.

"No, but in her situation, she would've found someone to do it for her. And knowing Liara, she would've taught herself to follow the steps so she could then do it on her own. I wouldn't be surprised if she changes its electric signature daily," Tali responded. "We'll have to find her the old-fashioned way."

"Unnecessary. Could trace signal from last sent message. Electronic signals only scrambled, never changed. If old signal code rearranged, would lead to current signal output," Mordin said, pacing as he spoke, collecting his thoughts.

"But with all the different encryption codes out there, how would we find exactly the right one? That could take hundreds of years!" Miranda exclaimed, hoping the doctor had already considered the eventuality.

"No, so many data strings, possibly of replication one in one trillion."

"So, we search for the tool signature that has the same coded information, but in a different sequence," Tali finished for the Salarian.

"Precisely," Mordin nodded emphatically.

"Wouldn't other people be willing to trace the signal like that as well, though?" Shepard asked incredulously.

"They could, but only if they've ever actually sent or received a message from Liara through her omnitool. And if I recall correctly, that number is very small. She conducted all her business through her private terminal on Nos Astra. But I seem to recall you, Garrus, and I have all been in contact with her at some point," Tali said, already opening her omnitool and scanning her communication history. Garrus quickly followed suit.

Shepard sighed; disengaging the tool's locking mechanism on his suit and sliding out the paper thin function core. "Here," he said dejectedly as he handed the device to Mordin. "You'll definitely be better at doing something like that than I would."

The Salarian nodded, taking the fragile chip gingerly in his hands, deftly removing his own and replacing it with Shepard's newly detached one.

He stood passively as the three each scanned, lowering them down one after the other, each coming away with the same location.

"She's in the same spot as when we last saw her," Tali said. "That would be the longest she's stayed in the same place without being attacked."

"That or she was attacked, and she never escaped." Miranda's words were met with a hushed silence, quickly broken by Shepard shaking his head in dissent.

"No, she's fine, at least for now. But we definitely need to hurry, then. Maybe she's finally given whoever's chasing her, and probably us too, the slip. But before we go, I have to send Kolyat our location. If he knows anything more about what happened to Thane, we need to hear it, preferably as soon as possible." He turned to Tali. "He sent you the message earlier; would you be able to contact him?"

"I'm surprised you thought you needed to ask," Tali said sarcastically. "I've already sent through a communications request."

Shepard quickly opened his omnitool, typing in a short message on the open writing application. Suddenly, the window opened on Tali's screen, revealing the scowling face of the young Drell. Behind him, they saw the tentacled heads of multitudes of Asari pass swiftly by, like waves in a vast ocean.

"Yes?" the Kolyat said, glancing around apprehensively.

"Can you go someplace quieter?" Shepard asked, glancing over Tali's shoulder. "If you can't find anywhere completely abandoned, fine, just make sure you keep this feed from prying eyes." Kolyat nodded his assent, lowering his arm to his side as he walked unobtrusively down a small side alley, ducking down behind a metallic outcropping. The small group watched as the image lifted once again to Thane's son's face. He nodded once more, showing the camera around the deserted alley.

Shepard looked over his shoulder, the sea of pedestrians to intent on their own affairs to pay any heed. They garnered only the occasional reproachful glance, looked upon distastefully as aliens, infringing upon the space of the great Asari culture.

Quickly, Shepard held up his own omnitool, words written across its holographic interface. The location of Liara's home. No further explanation was needed, and Kolyat merely nodded, taking the point. Tali quickly closed the feed, glancing around to assure herself they hadn't been seen.

Reaching an unspoken agreement, they began to walk forward brusquely, weaving in and out of the crisscrossing patterns created by the multitude of bodies as they slid smoothly past one another, some just barely brushing in the spontaneous, constant dance.

They slowly made headway, the buildings slowly passing their collective vision, only to be quickly replaced by others looking exactly the same, the long spires shooting upwards, tendrils thrust sharply, seeming to almost tear through the ethereal fabric of the sky. One footstep quickly became indistinguishable from the next, individual movement lost amidst the constant motion.

Tali felt her gaze wandering towards anything that would catch her eye. The simplest of sights never failed to impress her, having spent the better part of her life shut inside a starship, little more than a glorified prison. The wonderment of a piece of artwork, the marvel of an architectural miracle were never lost on her, both luxuries the Flotilla had never had. Even now, though, with the ships abandoned, slowly on their way to being forgotten underneath tangles undergrowth, or buried beneath vast expanses of desert, Tali doubted many of her people would be able to see the beauty that the other species took for granted.

She found herself peering over a great expanse, the high, sleek walls suddenly replaced by a small ledge. After the space of a few feet, the bottom suddenly fall away, revealing a drop of dizzying heights. Far below, shuttles and taxis whirred in montages of blurring color, seeming like liquid shapes that melded together and arrayed themselves in endless series of patterns.

The sun, slowly beginning an arduous descent over the towers, tried to avoid spearing itself on the sharp tips of the buildings. The shadows slowly grew longer, the shapes passing across each other, just as oblivious to the contact as those who cast them.

She didn't know how long she had been drinking in the surrounding landscape when they finally came to a stop beside a smaller building, the outside gleaming in the late afternoon, the last rays of the sun reflected in marvelous rainbows across the ground.

Shepard stepped forward and pounded on the door, but it stayed shut in their faces. He glanced around at his companions, knocking a little harder, to the same result. He looked nervously at her, gesturing desperately to the locked interface. She nodded, stepping forward. As her fingers effortlessly manipulated the flashing controls, she said matter-of-factly, "You're lucky I don't charge you for this. I could be rich by now."

"Being the Commander does have its benefits," Shepard agreed.

As he spoke the door slid away, the inside dark. As they stepped inside, and the door shut back in place, the gloom seemed to press in from all directions. Tali uneasily pulled her pistol from its resting place, cradling the weapon gently between her thumb and forefinger.

Out of nowhere, an invisible force suddenly lifted Garrus from his feet, sending the stunned Turian crashing heavily into the wall behind him, armor and all.


	23. Chapter 23

**A/N: Before I begin, I have a brief announcement: I have just lost the game. And in other news, please, please review! It is fantastic to see things have picked up in that department recently, but let's see how quickly we can get that review number up to 100. 38 to go! Please enjoy chapter 23!**

Chapter 23

In the Dim Light

Garrus collided with the wall, the resulting crash echoing loudly around the still dark interior. The Turian hit the floor, eyes lolling shut. He didn't get back up again, lying unconscious on the cold tiling.

The blast was immediately followed by another. Shepard felt the weight press down heavily against his chest, felt his feet lift from solid ground, seemingly of their own accord. The world seemed to slow for a brief moment, the entire scene spread before him in sudden clarity. Before he too was launched violently backwards, he was able to make out a lone Asari through the doorway, her malevolent gaze meeting his own, shocked one. Then in the next second, sound dropped away, the edges of his vision blurred, and Shepard felt his body rocket backwards. He hit the wall, an explosion of pain blossoming in his back as it smashed against the unforgiving metal. He crumpled to the ground. Gritting his teeth, Shepard dragged himself away from the door, watching the three who still stood duck behind the walls on either side of it.

He saw Tali duck out into the opening, discharging her shotgun's payload at their opponent, only to have the weapon ripped from her grasp and sent skidding across the slick ground. Shepard silently rolled onto his stomach, and began to make labored progress. He inched his way towards the discarded weapon, each movement jostling his back painfully. To his right, he heard a thud, and saw Mordin collapse to the ground, hands desperately trying to staunch the flow of blood that had just erupted from his shoulder.

Shepard marveled at how quickly everything had gone to hell. Not a minute ago they had stood outside the apartment in the fading afternoon sun. He had told a joke, the subsequent chuckle dissipating the tension, at least somewhat. The whole situation seemed so incredibly surreal, he almost wondered if he was just stuck in a nightmarish dream. He wished he could convince himself it was so.

Glancing up again, he saw the Salarian sitting, his head laid back against the wall. His armor was stained with his own blood, the thick substance looking almost ethereal in the pale light that struggled weakly through the boarded windows.

"Mordin," he called tentatively, allowing a thin sigh to escape his lips as the doctor glanced back at him.

"Shepard?" he called back weakly, his voice faint. "Hit in major artery, survival chances low without medical attention."

Shepard dragged his excruciating way to the Salarian's side, once again grunting as his back made contact with the solid surface. Grimacing, he looked at Mordin's armor, breathing in sharply as he saw the medigel interface ripped to shreds.

Looking down at his own, he saw the thin metallic covering. Grasping hold of the seal, he jerked it open, the angry hiss of air sounding out as it escaped from the pressured containment unit. He pulled out the tiny hypodermic syringe from its casings, quickly stabbing it into Mordin's arm before the freezing liquid could warm to the surrounding air temperature.

Immediately the blood flow from the professor's shoulder began to slow, the medigel quickly growing adhesive amidst the warmth of the blood, sealing shut the lacerated vessels.

Not pausing to speak, Shepard immediately resumed his sluggish advancement. Passing Tali's shotgun, he picked it up from where it lay momentarily abandoned on the ground. As he held it in his hands, he marveled at the weight distribution, its mass so evenly spread throughout that it seemed to weigh almost nothing.

Not daring to move into the open, he found himself sitting by Miranda's feet beside the opening to the rest of the house. Through the frame, bullets continuously tore at the wooden structure, small chunks peeling away, littering the floor. Shepard grimaced at the noise of additional projectiles connecting with the opposite end of the metal wall where he sat. The din rang incessantly, the shrieks piercing his eardrums. He ducked his head around the corner, firing off a single shot before he was forced to pull away, shields completely dissipated.

Suddenly, through the doorway the Asari stepped calmly forward, enshrouded in a thick blue glow that seemed to flow from her in waves. She smiled malevolently at three who stood around her. The biotic barrier she had erected around herself absorbing the ammunition. She regarded them coolly. Shepard watched as her next muscles tightened slightly, the movement just barely visible. Before he could even call out a warning, however, a huge shockwave shot forth from her body, sending the three of them flying forcibly backwards.

Shepard didn't feel his second collision with the wall in as many minutes. He slumped unconscious to the floor, arms splayed awkwardly as he landed beside the professor, who watched in horror, the world beginning to spin from his blood loss. Beyond the Commander, he saw Miranda, who also lay unmoving on the floor. At the other end of the room, Tali groaned feebly. She rolled onto her back, searching desperately for a weapon.

The Asari saw the Quarian's movement. Striding leisurely towards her, she began to raise her fist, her fingers seeming to crackle with a strange blue electricity. She began to pull back to strike the final blow, when she was suddenly thrown off her feet, jerked away as if on puppet strings.

Tali looked up, grimacing, to see Liara rush into the room, also surrounded by the brilliant blue field.

"Nyxeris!," she shouted, unleashing another biotic blow, sending the other Asari crashing to the floor once more.

"Hello, Liara. I was wondering when you'd be arriving back home." She loosed her own biotic throw, and Liara was flung helplessly backwards, hitting the doorframe awkwardly. She landed on her stomach, the wind instantly knocked from her lungs.

Ignoring the pain, Tali used Nyxeris's momentary distraction to pull herself to where Shepard had dropped her shotgun. Keelah, it felt like her chest was about to burst open. Her lungs were on fire, breathing labored. She gingerly felt her chest, and almost shouted as she did so. She felt the cleanly snapped end of a broken rib in her fingertips. The pain shot like a fire through her nerves as she touched it. She guessed another had pierced a lung.

She willed herself to continue, her progress unbearably slow. She watched helplessly as Liara was once again lifted and battered against the unforgiving metal. From the floor, Liara quickly unleashed a counterattack that sent Nyxeris sprawling onto her back, the barrier beginning to weaken.

In her momentary incapacitation, Tali quickly made a final, excruciating surge to retrieve the weapon. She turned and watched as Nyxeris retaliated, Liara dropping backwards, her head making a sickening crack as it smashed onto the hard ground. Tali centered the targeting reticule on the Asari's back, the crosshairs shaking just slightly as her arms began to quiver from shock. Still she waited, biding her time, knowing her biotic barrier had to drop eventually.

When it did, she was ready. She desperately began pulling the trigger, the shells ripping apart Nyxeris's shields. As the blue flickering slowly died, she felt herself leave the ground, floating powerless in midair. A sudden panic clutched at her. No one else could help her; her companions all lay vulnerable and unconscious throughout the room.

She heard something crash behind her, but could not turn to see the source, her head aimed unflinchingly straight ahead. She saw the Asari's eyes flick past her, momentarily rising in fear. Then, suddenly, a lone gunshot rang out, and a bullet burrowed itself into Nyxeris's forehead. Tali felt the stasis field dissolve, and with sudden horror, she felt herself begin to fall.

An explosion of pain erupted upon the impact. It seemed to come from everywhere at once. A small whimper escaped through clenched teeth. The world seemed fluid, her eyes unable to focus on anything, the colors dim and fading. Across her rapidly diminishing field of vision crossed a Drell. He seemed vaguely familiar, but she couldn't place where she had seen him, the pain creating a fog in her brain. She felt a small sting on her arm, her suit injecting the painkillers into her bloodstream.

The Drell held a Carnifex hand cannon at his side. He looked distastefully down upon the newly dead Asari. He then turned his attention to her. Crouching down, he did a short scan of her vitals with his omnitool. Tali groaned slightly, the only way she currently had of telling him she was conscious.

His eyes flitted to her face, a sympathetic smile forming on his lips. "Tali, wasn't it?" She could only nod. "You got beaten up pretty damn good. Five broken ribs, a punctured lung, broken arm, broken scapula," he ran down the comprehensive list, shaking his head in amazement. "I have no idea how you're still conscious."

Tali slowly felt the painkillers begin to take effect, the artificial endorphins rushing through her system, bringing with them the faintest sense of euphoria. The pain dulled slightly, and she felt the smallest easing of the pressure that had seemed to bury her. She slowly blinked her eyes open once again, even the dim, dusty light almost too much to bear.

She watched the Drell step across to her companions, slowly checking over each in turn. She tried to remember where she had seen him before, and as she strained, the haze slowly began to clear away. She saw the face again on her omnitool, barely half an hour ago. Kolyat. It looked like he had found the place alright.

He approached Mordin, who looked up weakly to watch.

"Will be fine, blood loss ceased." The Salarian brought up his own omnitool, movements slightly less coordinated than usual, his fingers plucking clumsily at the holographic type-station. "No major internal injuries. Vitals stabilized." Mordin tried to stand, but was forced back down by Kolyat's firm hand.

"You aren't about to die. That doesn't mean you should be up walking around. Whether I scan your friends or you do makes little difference at this point." Grudgingly, Mordin complied, but the anxious look never left his face as he glanced at the bodies scattered haphazardly about the room. In front of the door, Liara stirred, shakily sitting up. She placed a hand to her forehead gingerly, searching for any signs of major injury. She felt a large welt forming against her temple, the wound throbbing painfully. She rose to her feet, slowly progressing to where Nyxeris lay dead. Crouching down, she inspected the large, bloody hole through the back of her head.

"So this is how they kept finding me," she whispered to herself. She glanced over to see a Drell squatting beside Shepard, administering something via his omnitool. Instantly, the man began to stir, hand immediately reaching for a weapon. The Drell quickly grabbed his hands, stilling them. Something in Shepard's eyes seemed to calm upon registering his face, and he merely nodded.

As soon as Kolyat turned his back to check Garrus, Shepard crawled to Tali's side. He stared down, a look of panic clearly beginning to form in his eyes.

"I'm here," she said quietly, so much so that he was forced to strain to hear what was said. The faintest of smiles played across his battered visage, before it was replaced once again by the worry.

"What happened? Are you alright?"

She shook her head slowly. "I'll live, but I've broken a couple things. I'm going to need a hospital, some time to recuperate."

Stepping around to her other side, Shepard began to access her omnitool with the password she had given him. She closed her eyes, leaving him to his work. In her shoulder, she felt another short sting as another needle emptied its contents.

"The medigel won't fix the bones, but it'll help to reestablish some of the muscle tissue around the damage. It should help the pain significantly, as well."

"Thank you, Adam," came the barely audible reply.

He reached out to take her hand, but stopped. He wasn't sure of the extent of the damage, and, not wanting to cause further injury, stood up again.

"Shepard?" a voice called hesitantly from across the room.

"Liara?" he turned, cautiously stepping across the space to reach her, still shaky from his recent ordeal. "It's good to see you again. Ever since I died," her wince at the mention of his demise cut him short. "Please, you don't have to act so sensitive about it. As you can see, it was just a passing thing. And this time, you didn't have to flay people with your mind to bring me back!"

"Still, some things, some feelings, are better to not bring back to the surface after they have passed away. But that is not why I need to speak with you."

"What is it, then?"

"I checked through Nyxeris's message history, and found some…interesting things," she said. Shepard silently waited for the inevitable elaboration. "She was in the information brokering business as well. Perhaps even involved with the Shadow Broker. Either way, she was working against me. I have reason to believe she may have even been the Observer."

"Does she have any contacts with repeated communications?"

"Several. Most of them I do not know, likely just minor clients. There is one, however, that I do recognize. The name was locked out of identification, but I've done enough research on the person for various clients of my own that I know it is the Illusive Man's signature."

Shepard took in the information in stunned silence, collecting his thoughts before responding. "That would explain how he got his information, on Horizon, Freedom's Progress, the Collector ship, everything! If the Shadow Broker was involved, that would make perfect sense!"

At that moment, Kolyat stepped beside them. "I don't mean to interrupt, but several of these people need immediate medical attention. They're stable now, but that could change at a moment's notice."

Shepard glanced back at Liara, and gave a single nod. "We'll look into this after we get them checked into a hospital. Although it looks like you'll be relatively safe now."

"Yes, although that fight was much more difficult than I had hoped. It seems she took my incessant advice on improving her barriers to heart."

* * *

**A/N: Alright! As anyone who has already played Mass Effect 2 for the most part knows, Nyxeris is involved with the Shadow Broker. And this leads me to a slight confession here. The Shadow Broker does play a certain role in this story, complete with my own interpretation of his origins. However, with the new Lair of the Shadow Broker DLC out (it's awesome, I strongly recommend you pick it up if you haven't already), some differences have arisen between my interpretation and Bioware's professional one. However, since this began before the release of that particular DLC, I'm sticking with my original plan, conflicting as it may be, for purposes of the story. I thought I'd let you guys know, so there aren't questions raised about horrible continuity.**


	24. Chapter 24

**A/N: I must admit, that while I was writing this, I was suffering through some horrible writer's block. So, I would like to thank iNf3ctioNZ for helping me out with that. This definitely wouldn't be out on time if it wasn't for that, so thanks, Bro!**

**And in other news, the up-date for next chapter may take significantly longer. I'm involved in a theater production, and we are about to enter technical rehearsals. So any semblance of free-time that still remained to me will shortly be no more. But that's enough that! Please, read and review (shocker, I know, but how else am I going to know how I'm doing? Short of implementing my Internet telepathy powers, but that's exhausting work, and I'd prefer not to have to resort to something along those lines.) So, without further ado: Chapter 24!  
**

Chapter 24

Conversation

Tali had always hated hospitals. They never ceased to bring to the forefront of her mind images of the mother she had hardly known. When she awoke to find herself in one, the weight of memories she had never had pressed down heavily on her chest, creating their own form of claustrophobia. She lay isolated within her own small bubble, the locks on the front of her suit removed, the heavy cloth pulled to either side, separated at the neat, built-in seams. They had always been built for an easy removal in an emergency. However, the process was only to be used in the worst situations, as it overrode all the suit's individual barriers, as well as took long amounts of precious time for the fibers to effectively weave themselves back together once again.

She heard a slight shifting at her bedside. She turned her head, cringing at the unexpected throbbing caused by the motion. The grimace quickly changed to a faint smile, however, when she saw the source of the slight noise. Shepard sat in a straight-backed chair, sitting rigidly upright due to the brace wrapped around his back.

"Why is it that we can't have a conversation without being caught in the middle of some horrible circumstances?" Tali asked him, a note of mirth clear in her voice.

"Because I'm eternally at the center of horrible circumstances," Shepard replied matter-of-factly.

"I can't deny that you seem to be a magnet for trouble," she responded, "but do you really need to drag the rest of us in with you?" The playful sound of her voice showing she meant none of it.

"You know you wouldn't have it any other way," he smiled, giving her a quick wink.

"The danger isn't why I stick with it," she said, voice suddenly dropping. "It's because the day I stop getting in firefights is the day you're gone forever."

"I won't leave you behind again, Tali. I promise. Not for a long time."

"But what if something happens? What if we don't make it out of this?"

"We will. We always get out of the really tough stuff in the end. We handled Saren, the Collectors, even the reapers. I'm pretty sure we can handle a couple of crack assassins."

"But that's what worries me. How would a couple of unorganized thugs with guns take out a third of the most elite squad in the galaxy?"

"Well, the best squad in the galaxy always was better together. I'm just glad you're here. I wouldn't be able to do this without you. Without you, I'd be dead right now."

"Fortunately for you, I don't give up on things so easily. I guess I should be thanking Cerberus now. If they hadn't brought you back the first time, I never would have been able to do it again."

"If they hadn't brought me back the first time I'd be floating alone in the middle of a gigantic ship wreck."

"It's good to see dying hasn't taken away your practicality," Tali said sarcastically.

"Nothing could take that away. It's part of my central being."

"And I wouldn't have it any other way. I fell in love with you, quirks and all. Reconstructing you to be perfect would only take away from what you already are."

"Plus, then I might just end up like Miranda."

Tali glared at him through her mask. "You really do have a talent for ruining a moment, Shepard," she said.

"Just chalk it up as another quirk. This kind of thing is what makes you love me, remember?"

"I won't deny the truth. But why do you have to ridicule her? She does respect you. Perhaps even more than that. I'm not sure if you're returning the gestures the correct way, assuming Quarian behavior is anything to go by."

"Please don't say you're leaving me again. You almost killed me again when you turned me down when I first woke up."

"Shepard, I will never do that again. I will never leave you, and I trust just as equally that you won't abandon me, either. I'm simply making it clear that perhaps you should lighten your treatment of her, if only slightly."

"Slightly?"

"It is entertaining on occasion to hear a good Miranda joke."

"I remember on the Sr-2, Engineer Donnelly had a good one," Shepard trailed off.

"I probably have already heard it. That man has a tendency to repeat himself incessantly."

"As you said, everyone has their quirks."

"You're acting as if you've only just heard that word for the first time."

"No, but how often does the occasion to use it in conversation arise? I may as well take advantage of it. I don't know, probably a quirk." He smiled down at her, and Tali couldn't resist the smallest chuckle that came to her lips, immediately grimacing as the action brought a searing pain to her chest.

"Are you alright?" Shepard asked, standing up quickly, the grimace then spreading to his face.

"I'm fine. Broken ribs and a punctured lung aren't the most enjoyable experiences in the world."

"I know what you mean."

"You just have a bone bruise. That's why you're up and about," Tali quipped good-naturedly.

"No, but I've had more than my fair share of broken bones. Remember when we blew up the Collector base? I had to jump onto the Normandy at the end of that. Smashed a couple things against the floor. I've definitely had better experiences."

"But the important thing was you made it out alive. We lived to share another day."

"Many more days, almost another whole year. Although, I admit when I did die, at least I did it glamorously."

"I hope you know I hate it when you bring up this subject," Tali said softly.

"Why? I'm here now, what difference does it make?"

"Because then I have to relive the memories. For you, it was like falling asleep, and then waking up again. You don't know what passed in between. Every time it's mentioned, I remember the isolation, the hopelessness, wondering if life was worth living, and knowing that tomorrow, things would not get better, that the pain does not dull with time."

"You brought it up yourself earlier," he replied.

"No, I talked about bringing you back, not the hopeless moments in between." Her voice remained quiet, the melancholy memories beginning their unwelcome intrusion.

Shepard sat silently for a moment, sitting solemnly back into the chair at the bedside. "I'm so sorry, I had no idea. I will never leave you again." He took her thin, gloved hand in his own, squeezing gently. She returned the gesture, looking over to him.

"I know, Adam. And I will never push you away. We're stronger together."

At that moment, the door to the room slid quickly away, and Kolyat quickly walked in.

"And you said I ruin these moments," Shepard whispered quietly to Tali, who smiled slightly once again.

"Shepard, I need to speak with you," Kolyat said, unaware of his interruption. "About Thane." He paused a moment, then amended, "about my father."

"Of course. Is it alright if we talk in here? I don't particularly relish the thought of moving," he responded, fingers still intertwined with Tali's, gently curled together.

The young Drell nodded his assent, then stepped forward, the door closing behind him.

"I already told you the facility working on the cure for my father's sickness was sabotaged, during the final stages of development for the serum that could have been implemented and begun to reverse his condition. The complex was abandoned due to its being compromised. I received a tip regarding its destruction and what they had discovered from one of my contacts I acquired in my short-lived career as an assassin. I always knew that even though I left the occupation I shouldn't cut ties with all of my associates.

"After I learned of this occurrence, I broke in, following the disregarding of any security protocols. They abandoned the building, there was nothing left to guard. But I found a corrupted data stream from one of the surveillance cameras, one that had failed to erase completely. I cleaned up the footage and saw a group of fully armed Blue Suns mercenaries planting a load of demolition charges in the room."

"Keelah," Tali whispered from the bed.

"What is it?" Shepard turned to face her.

"When we brought you back, immediately after the final operation, we were attacked by a group of Blue Suns mercenaries. I forgot about it until now, what with all that has been going on recently. But I'm not sure it was a mere coincidence."

"But what possible motive could they have for hunting us down?" Shepard questioned.

"They wouldn't have to, not if someone hired them to assassinate us," Tali responded.

"Assassinate you?" Kolyat asked curiously.

"Of the people who have worked with Shepard, five have already been killed, if we assume the attack on the facility that brought about your father's death was caused by the same people. We've also been attacked several times, although only once by the Blue Suns," Tali answered.

"Who else?" asked the Drell.

"The Eclipse, but that was likely because of our attack on two of their mercenaries, not to mention the fact that we stole their credits. 30 million of them. And then that Asari, the one you saved us from just recently."

"Liara told me she was probably working with the Shadow Broker," Shepard added. "Which would also explain why she was in contact with the Eclipse back in their base on Proteus! I still don't know what this has to do with the Illusive Man, though."

"The Illusive Man?" Tali whipped her head around to face him.

"Yeah, Liara recovered several contacts with him when she searched Nyxeris's omnitool."

"You don't think the Illusive Man could be the Shadow Broker?"

"I highly doubt that. For one thing, none of his associates know his identity. It would make more sense if he was another customer for information, which would explain how he always had so much Intel on everything when we were still being manipulated by that asshole."

"What does all this have to do with my father?" Kolyat asked impatiently.

"I don't know," Shepard sighed, looking down. "Only that it seems that the Blue Suns who attacked that facility did it likely so the cure couldn't be used on Thane. Somebody wants us all dead."

Shepard shook his head slowly. "I should probably go talk to Liara, see if she found anything else while we've been cooped up in these damn rooms." As he stood up and proceeded toward the exit, he could have sworn he heard the faintest sigh from Tali's bed.

With a pronounced limp, he found his way eventually through the maze-like corridors to the waiting room, populated throughout by dozens of Asari. After several seconds of scanning the crowd, Shepard's eyes eventually lit upon the one he was looking for. She leaned passively against the wall, arms folded across her chest. Shepard determinedly made his way forward, colliding jarringly with a visitor on more than one occasion. He paused only long enough to mutter a half-hearted apology before continuing.

Liara saw Shepard approaching, cutting a smooth line through the crowded atrium. She shifted, lowering her arms to the side, waiting and watching his progress. After observing his struggle, she eventually took pity on him, cleaving her own way, preparing to meet him.

Shepard continued to push forward, no longer looking up. He once again grimaced as he slammed roughly into yet another Asari, mumbling a short sorry, trying to force his way around her. She moved to block his motion, and he looked up angrily, Liara's face taking a moment to register. Finally, he nodded in dawning comprehension. Without a word, he turned, reversing his movement, pushing through the crowd. Liara followed him curiously as he led the way back to the room where Tali lay on the bed. Kolyat had already left, but Shepard didn't waste time wondering where he had left to.

"What is it Shepard?" Liara asked after she had closed the door at his urging.

"We need to know, did you find anything about Nyxeris, anything else since the attack?"

"Nothing, unfortunately. I've run searches on every contact listed. None of them are any names I've ever heard before. Mostly small time politicians squabbling for a leg up on the competition."

"So the only thing we have to run on is the Illusive Man?"

"That is correct."

"That would come in very useful, if we even knew where we could find him," Tali called from the bed. "As it is, I'm not sure the information is of any use to us. It isn't as if we can just call him up, ask him to give us his address."

"We don't know anything, no. But I imagine if any of us could get his location, it's Miranda. Fortunately she's just a few doors over."

He turned to leave, but was stopped at the door as Tali began to speak once again. "Shepard, try not to drop any Miranda jokes while you're in there. I know how much you love them, but I'm not sure she's the best at taking it."

* * *

"Shepard?" she said, her voice unconsciously rising in pitch. The change was subtle, and he didn't seem to notice.

"Miranda, I need your help."

She nodded slowly. "What is it you need?"

"I was wondering if you knew where we could find the Illusive Man."

The silence hung heavy in the air for a moment, so much so that they could have heard a pin drop. Then Miranda spoke. "Actually, I believe I can help you. He rarely moved from one location to another, and even when he did, it was always on a pre-determined schedule. Assuming he hasn't broken from tradition since we abandoned Cerberus, it shouldn't be all that difficult to track him down."

* * *

**A/N: I can't say I'm wholly satisfied with the last few paragraphs here, something about them just didn't feel right, although I'm not quite sure what it was. I guess maybe the writer's block wasn't quite through with me yet, and wanted to exact its revenge, at least to a certain extent. But anyhoo, review button is right there, tantalizingly close. Doesn't it look beautiful, seductive? You may have to click on it and see what happens! (Spoiler alert: the most awe-inspiring window you shall ever see will indeed appear, while simultanelously giving you the power to voice your opinion!) Sounds great, doesn't it?**


	25. Chapter 25

**A/N: Sorry about the large update gap. Tech rehearsal does not leave much free time. Either way, I can't say I'm wholly satisfied with this chapter. I'm not sure I like the way it turned out. Based on what I have planned out, though, the next one should definitely be better. Either way, please read and review!**

Chapter 25

Earth

The Atlantic rapidly pulled up to the crowded port. The well-paved streets connecting the many docks were packed with all humanity had to offer, vendors shouting out their wares at small stands. Every so often, a pedestrian would stop, look over a merchant's wares, sometimes even purchase a small trinket as a souvenir to brighten a mantelpiece at a small house in an unknown suburb.

Into the hopelessly busy walkways, the Atlantic's airlock swung open. Shepard stepped out into the bright sunlight blinking. He watched humanity in all their glory, observed many, too many, people stumbling drunkenly through the busy spacedock. Thrust to the fringes of the walkways, unshaved, grizzled, ancient faces looked out pitifully at the crowd. They held small cups and jars, empty save for a few coins that clinked against their container's sides. Their gaunt faces were clear of expression, hardened into cold, blank stares by years of indifference. Somewhere far in the distance, a gunshot rang out. No one took any notice. So many people were murdered every day that one couldn't step outside without being greeted by the sound. As long as they weren't the one staring down the barrel, it didn't matter. The violence had gone on for years, the result of rapidly depleting resources and a population growing beyond the planet's ability to support it. Some were able to leave, escape to colonies on exotic planets far out in the Cosmos, but most were forced to watch helplessly as the Earth died and its inhabitants slaughtered each other for no other reason than to take home an extra few dollars. Governments had at first cracked down brutally, but had slowly grown complacent, hopeless. Some arrests were made, but the half-hearted captures were more for appearances than any real attempt to restore even an iota of peace or sanity to the world rapidly descending into madness.

"Welcome home," Shepard quietly whispered to himself.

"Are you alright, Shepard?" Tali asked softly, noticing his dejected expression as she exited the airlock behind him.

"There's a reason I left this place the first chance I got. When I first joined the Alliance, it wasn't to defend humanity on some glorious crusade. It was to get away from this place." He swept his hand out, across the throngs of people, not stopping on anything in particular.

"These crowds are like those on the Flotilla," Tali observed. "But we never had the disorder. Our entire species would have disappeared centuries ago if we did."

"And that is why I have so much more respect for the Quarians than I do humans."

"Even after you saw what happened at my trial?"

"Every species has corrupt politicians. It's one of those universal truths."

"Anderson didn't seem corrupt in the least," Tali replied.

"There's always the exception. Your aunt seemed pretty reasonable, at least from what I've seen."

Tali nodded in response, thoughts turning to her people. She wondered about the colony, about her friends and family. She didn't linger long, however, as Garrus stepped out to join them. He glanced quickly at the two of them, watching passively as the Earth tore itself apart.

"Somehow, I expected more, considering you came out of this place," Garrus said matter-of-factly.

"Don't get your hopes up," Shepard replied, the faintest hint of anger evident in his words. "Some things never change."

Silence followed the short exchange. They stood still, listening to the sounds of the port. More gunshots. Tali stretched her back, trying to loosen it, to take her mind off their surroundings.

Just under two weeks had passed since their ordeal on Illium. Two weeks cooped up in a hospital, staring up at the whitewashed ceiling, the smell of antiseptic permeating every corner, inescapable. Two weeks, the hours filled with pain and boredom, her ribs slowly reattaching themselves to where they had been severed from her sternum, the process encouraged by the medications intermittently pumped through her suit's system of wires and cables.

The pain was gone now, save for the occasional twinge brought on by too quick a movement, too sharp a turn to look over her shoulder. The constant ache had been replaced by an invariable stiffness, every movement of her arms an effort. The doctors had warned her of this upon her release yesterday. They had told her to stay out of action, spend the next several weeks resting and recuperating. She had thanked them politely, nodded at their advice, and exited through the doors.

Shepard had been released after a mere three days. He had visited her often, sitting beside her bedside for hours at a time. Sometimes they had spoken, Shepard continuously exposing new quirks. Sometimes they had sat in peaceful silence, comforted merely by the presence of the other.

Still, it felt good to once again be back on her feet, moving at will in the world.

Miranda had confided in Shepard the location of the Illusive Man's base, at least where it had been when she still worked with Cerberus. They had given another payment to the irate pilot when they had told him that, rather than traveling back to his home on Proteus, as he had thought, they would be taking a short detour to Earth.

She snapped out of her reverie as she saw Shepard begin to push his way steadily through the massing hoards. Following him, she traveled easily in his wake, staying close behind, progress unimpeded as the countless displaced figures had no time to fill the gap between the Commander and herself.

Liara followed behind at a larger distance. She had deigned to once again join Shepard, upon finding Nesera's dead body waiting for her further inside the house. She had nothing chaining her to Illium any longer. The loss had hurt, a dull, constant ache that caused no physical pain. It felt more like a heavy weight pressing down incessantly on her chest. She had only felt the pain of loss once before, a mere four years ago, watching as she helped to kill her own mother, see the pain in the great Matriarch's eyes as the gunfire ripped through her shields and tore her apart. That hurt had never truly left, the pain only dulling with time, becoming an invariable fact of life.

She looked up, and saw the small party had quickly left her far behind. It took several seconds of frantic scanning to spot Tali's helmeted figure moving swiftly through the streets as if she were in water, the pedestrians making way before her. She then glanced only slightly further ahead and saw Shepard cleaving his way through the massive mob. Garrus and Miranda walked next to him, the Turian towering over the surrounding population. He was followed by many glances, some distrustful, some fearful, others full of downright hatred. No one made a move to hinder his progress, however. No one wanted to be the first discover how accurate he really was with the sniper rifle he carried proudly across his back, the gun's barrel in clear view. Kolyat, taking after his father, had disappeared, hidden amongst the bobbing heads. Mordin remained on the Atlantic, the bullet wound in his arm failing to completely heal, anything more than the slightest movement caused him to grimace as an explosion of pain shot up his shoulder blades.

The different docks all looked the same, the same peeling paint, the same rampant violence and poverty, the same general decrepit structures. The only difference between one and another was the eventual destination.

After what seemed like hours of walking, making their way through the shoving, impatient masses, they reached the complex's exit. The crowds barely diminished outside, uncountable numbers of shuttles flying swiftly back and forth overhead. Tali watched them flit across the sky, some so close she could feel the wind as they swept low across the city's streets, other extending so far off in the air that could only be made out as small shadows against the late morning sun that still shone faintly through the thick, dusty haze that had blanketed the planet for countless years.

Shepard led them to a transit terminal. He tapped his foot anxiously as they stood at the end of the line of commuters, all punching in their desired destinations. After what seemed ages, the last person before them in the queue stepped to the transit station, a sleek, yellow taxi opening its door without a sound, save for a faint rush of cool air from the interior.

Miranda brushed past Shepard, glancing furtively over her shoulder instinctively, making sure no one was watching her type in the destination. Without even realizing the action, drilled into her from years of repetition, she covered the holographic screen with the palm of her hand, only allowing herself to see. Quickly keying in the location, she erased the transaction information and took the small receipt spit out by the old, battered machine.

Out of the crowds, Kolyat moved to join them in the waiting station, a small cough escaping through his lips. Shepard whipped his head to look, a look of concern flitting across his features. "Are you alright?"

The Drell nodded. "I had something get stuck in my throat," he said hesitantly. Shepard nodded uncertainly, turning his attention back to the others.

He unconsciously drifted to Tali's side, draping his arm across her shoulders. She leaned gently against his firm stature, her own arm clinging to his waist. Another shuttle pulled up to the station, door opening outwards, like the wing of a bird of prey. The group of six stepped readily into its gaping maw, sealing the way shut behind them. With a sudden acceleration, they were sent rocketing among the millions of similar vehicles, disappearing into the monochrome streaks whipping through the thick, polluted air.

Shepard watched Tali's face, registering with a pang that the clear temporary replacement was gone, a newly refitted polarized version once again in its place. He had noticed the new mask before, but had been too busy to register the significance. He silently lamented its disappearance, holding her tightly as he did so. She rested her head against his shoulder, her eyes pale orbs of luminescence glinting palely in the dim light of the taxi. The darkened windows filtered out the intense sunlight that streamed down to where they flew, above the darkened clouds of smoke and dust.

Garrus leaned against the window, calmly polishing the barrel of his Viper. He peered out the tinted glass, his vision traveling downwards for miles, broken only by the brown haze. He couldn't make out finer details, but he saw basic shapes, blocks of buildings spewing smoke forth from long, cylindrical towers. He reflected passively on the inevitable destruction of all the worlds known. Some may still be clean, beautiful, seeming oases in the vast emptiness of space, but even those would eventually fall apart. Anything in existence was simply part of a permanent, constant, irreversible degeneration. Everything passed away, whether it took a year, or a decade, or billions of years.

He found himself once again thinking of Sidonis. Ever since Shepard had once again joined the ranks of the living, he had largely been able to stay away from the line of thought, but he now once again felt the guilt weighing down on his mind, a pressure just outside the range of tangibility. He once again returned to his polishing, trying to abandon his thoughts in the dull, mindless repetition.

Tali raised her head from Shepard's shoulder when she felt the gravitational shifts. An unseen force gently seemed to lessen their weight, feeling almost as if she could float away on a cloud of air. The sensation was similar to that of an elevator when it first begins its descent. The ground approached, slowly at first, the surface seeming to gain speed as it rose to meet them. The shuttle hurtled down past decrepit factories, their smokestacks that had once so eagerly contributed to the permanent cloud that hung over the planet now barren and desolate, the towers long since abandoned, the foundations of the buildings they stood atop beginning a slow decay to rejoin the Earth.

The taxi finally touched down at the transit station, the door slowly opening. As the air rushed into the controlled cabin, Kolyat coughed again. He shrugged off Shepard's concerned questions yet again. Tali stood still, the faintest look of horror passing across her voice before she replaced it. She recognized the deep, hacking sounds from when she had known Thane, the gasping for air. She shook her head, telling herself it was something else; he was just irritated by the pollution. There certainly was no lack of it, especially here, in an old factory district.

Miranda looked around at the building, nodding to herself. "We're in the right place," she said, turning to look at the others. "I've seen this place more times than I can count in the last couple of decades."

"Well then, I guess that means no one here is more qualified than you to lead the way," Shepard responded. Miranda nodded, and began to cross the cracked, dry ground. She wove in between darkened alleys, past fenced in complexes with a familiarity born only from countless traverses of the landscape.

Miranda stopped, turning to face Shepard even as she lifted her hand and pointed to a small incline in the path, small tufts of grass sprouting through the barren surface. "It's right over there, past this hill. It's in another of these ancient factories, but he had the inside refurbished."

"How much security can we expect?" Garrus asked, his three fingers unconsciously dancing across the handle of his assault rifle.

"This location actually isn't heavily fortified, as some of the others are. Because we tried to keep this one a secret, the on hand crew rarely exceeds fifteen. This base relies more upon stealth than defensibility. If someone discovered our station here, they'd likely inform an authority rather than try to take us on. And it doesn't matter how many people we have on hand, we could never withstand a search and seizure by the government."

"How large is the base?" Shepard questioned.

"It's limited entirely to the building's underground rooms, but it is still fairly sizeable. Large enough that there's a chance we could theoretically get close to the Illusive Man without being intercepted by anyone, provided they aren't watching the security cameras too closely."

"I find it hard to believe that the leader of a largely hated international organization would feel content to sit almost completely unguarded in a rundown industrial plant on Earth," Liara stated.

"It isn't completely unguarded, the elevators are completely out of service, and when I was still with Cerberus, we took the liberty of cementing off any entrance underground that way. The only other way is through the stairwell, and that's blocked by a slab of reinforced steel over a foot and a half thick. It only opens to proper identification, and drilling through something that large would give us ample time to prepare for an attack."

"If you need proper identification, how are we going to get in?" Tali countered, the slightest hint of derision creeping into her tone. "I would think the Illusive Man would have caught on by now, especially considering his vast information network."

"Haven't I told you I prepared for every eventuality?" Miranda scorned. "I had access to almost every file of every member. I made profile copies for myself. At the time, it was in case one of them went rogue, I would be able to access everything about them. They wouldn't be able to oppose us for long. But things will work in the reverse just as easily. Most people don't leave Cerberus once they've joined. Just like the Illusive Man, the individuals assigned to each facility are on a regular schedule. I have at least two records for workers on every base. I can gain their security codes from out there. After that, it's a simple process of avoiding detection."

"I'm not entirely convinced it's going to be simple," Shepard added, "But we have to go there anyway. Standing here is just wasting time. We have a plan, let's go through with it."

Miranda didn't reply, instead simply turning and continuing over the crest of the hill as if no one had spoken. Another abandoned building greeted them, seeming alike to every other they had passed, nothing to call attention to it anyway, aside from the fact that its walls stood in slightly better repair than that of its neighbors, but that could easily be dismissed by a casual passersby as better construction, or simply better luck.

Miranda knew better. She strode forward, and walked around the back end of the building. The others followed her lead, absorbing the location, mapping escape routes. She looked quickly around at her surroundings, making sure there group was alone, before silently slipping through an open doorway, a crooked sign warning them of dangerous electrical equipment, permitting entrance only to authorized personnel. They ignored the ancient warning, footsteps echoing uncomfortably loudly on the concrete floor inside the building.

Not long did they stop to admire the interior, however, before they were once again led by the Ex-Cerberus officer to one of the many doors clustered at intervals about the room. Hard, dried dirt was crusted onto the handle, flaking off in miniscule pieces when touched. From the corner of his eye, Shepard saw a mouse dart across the open floor to a small bundle of leaves and dead grass piled in the corner. The door, covered in faded green paint swung open on broken hinges with a loud creak. Behind it, a small flight of stairs led downwards, ending in a pool of black at the bottom. They entered, the door shut behind them with an ear-piercing squeal, sealing them in the blackness. Tali glanced down at her omnitool, utilizing the flashlight application. A pale yellow beam grew from her wrist, forcing the others to squint in the sudden illumination. They stood in front of a large metal door. It glinted faintly in the shaft of light. Peering down through the elongated shadows that danced across every surface, Miranda turned on her own omnitool, navigating to a folder for her old Cerberus files. She opened a page, scanning a short list for their current location. Her eyes alit on a name corresponding to the time, and she opened the page. Daniel Folds. Twenty-seven years old, fair hair, blue eyes. Security code: HX3N9D40.

Miranda looked back at the door again, her eyes drifting along the wall until she found the key pad. She clicked a small button in the corner of the device to initiate an access sequence, and saw the box to input the codes appear. Glancing down at Daniel Folds's profile, she entered in the eight digit password, and held her breath. Blinking a series of flashing lights, the pad scanned the code, comparing it to past entries. She let the breath out as the apparatus glowed green, and the thick door swung open, stopping just before it crashed heavily against the inner wall. They stepped across the threshold, a motion sensor reading their progress as the door closed behind the group.

They stood in a corridor of metal, fluorescent lighting hanging from the ceiling. A security camera turned to watch them, encased in a shell of black glass. Shepard hoped no one was watching.

"Adam," Tali called from behind him. He turned to face her. "I'm picking up a strange signal interference here; it isn't like anything I've ever seen before."

"Is it possible being underground is just messing with your omnitool's sensor?" he asked.

"No, that would only result in a shortened effect radius. The field itself is fine. Something magnetic is obstructing the signal reception in the first place. And based on the level of the interference, it seems like it's something pretty powerful."

"I'm getting the same thing here, Shepard," Garrus said, complementing Tali's statement."

"Is that bad?" Shepard questioned uncertainly.

"Not necessarily, it just means something nearby is emitting powerful magnetic waves. Their output is so strong, I may actually be able to trace their origin," Tali said, fingers already manipulating the device's screen to set up a signal search.

They continued down hallway after hallway, the chrome surfaces seeming to blend into one another so that Shepard no longer knew which way they had entered. The lack of any sort of population was disconcerting.

They finally came to a stop in front of a room, a keypad once again stationed on the wall outside. Miranda input the code once more, only to have the system reject the series of letters and numbers, flashing a red light. Red words scrolled across the small digital screen. _Please check password and repeat sign-in procedure. _

"Damn it," she muttered under her breath, silently berating herself on thinking she could enter the private office of the Illusive Man with a lackey's password.

"Let me try," Tali said, stepping over to the holographic interface. Miranda reluctantly stepped aside and gave the Quarian access.

After several failed attempts, they were finally greeted by a green light. Tali stepped back proudly, watching the door swing open. A man in a dark suit sat within, his back towards them. His form was silhouetted against a large, rotating orange planet. The old image of a star was now gone. Shepard quickly passed the others, rushing inside.

"Hello, Shepard." The voice brought Shepard's progress to a halt.

"It's been awhile," he responded. "I'd say hello, but I don't actually know you're name."

"Nobody does. I'm not giving you any preferential treatment."

"Most people would. It's a side effect to saving the galaxy from annihilation by a master race of machines."

"Yes, but most people don't know that. They just know you're Commander Shepard. You haven't earned respect from your accomplishments; you've earned it as a result of your title."

"But you do know what I've done, and I wouldn't doubt if you knew why I'm here."

"I'd assume you're here because Miss Lawson showed you the way. I know people have been killing your squad. Don't ask me who, I don't have any more answers than you in that regard," the Illusive Man said, cutting off the question about to spring to Shepard's lips. "As to why you're visiting me now, I have several guesses, but none of which I'm absolutely sure are correct."

"Then allow me to enlighten you. We've killed an Asari named Nyxeris, and you were listed as a contact. I'll give you one opportunity to explain why you were speaking with someone who attempted to kill us."

"I'm sure you've already guessed that Nyxeris is an agent of the Shadow Broker. If the Shadow Broker has a contact who wants you taken care of, I fail to see how that's supposed to affect me."

"Her other contacts were no name politicians or people hoping to get a leg up somewhere in the world, no one who'd have any remote interest in seeing me, or anyone else on my squad killed."

"Please imagine how amateurish this argument sounds. Jacob, for instance, a loyal Cerberus operative, was among the ones who've already been killed. Why would I have any interest in killing off one of my own?"

"He could've been leaving Cerberus," Tali supplemented, stepping beside Shepard.

"Miss Zorah, such a pleasure. In response to your statement, however, I have never entertained vengeance. I'm a rational man; I don't kill people unless it is of absolute necessity. Doesn't killing someone because they decide they want to do something different with their life seem a tad melodramatic? Either way, I've never had any doubts regarding Jacob's resolve to begin with. And even if I was so inclined as to harbor these notions, killing him before he even had a chance to leave would seem premature, would it not?"

"You still haven't answered my question," Shepard cut in angrily.

"So I haven't," responded the Illusive Man. "Please excuse my momentary distraction. These small time politicians you've mentioned, do you by any chance have any knowledge regarding their origins?"

"No," Shepard admitted.

"Then, perhaps, what if one belongs to the Batarian Hegemony? With the way so many of them feel towards humanity, wouldn't you say killing off one of humanity's greatest symbols could theoretically help a campaign?"

"No one is foolish enough to try to take on Shepard," Tali said furiously.

"And I'm sure both of you I'm quite a logical person. Please, what good could I possibly gain from killing all of you?"

"I abandoned you two years ago," Shepard said. "Maybe you want to take your revenge now that the galaxy is no longer about to wiped out."

"I believe I've already stated that I'm not the vengeful type. What purpose would that serve?"

The Illusive Man was interrupted by the sound of a gun being drawn. He finally turned in his chair to face them. Six angry faces stared back at him. A Turian he recognized as Garrus Vakarian had drawn an assault rifle, and was centering it on his chest. Shepard moved to his side, and whispered something.

"No, Shepard. We can't take any chances. Even if he hasn't been the one who's been killing all of us, how can you not think he deserves to die?"

"Garrus, justice isn't vigilantism," Shepard said heatedly.

"Do you have any idea how many people he's been responsible for killing? And if he is behind this, this is the one chance we have to stop the killing. I'm placing my life over his." Garrus brought the gun up, finger tensed against the trigger.

"Garrus, remember what you told me about Sidonis? Do you want extra guilt on your shoulders?" Tali pleaded.

"That was killing in cold blood. He was defenseless and of no danger to me. This is self-preservation. You may rather die than have him killed, but I don't want to take any chances."

"Garrus!" Shepard shouted. "Put down the damn gun! This isn't like you!"

"I've always valued my life, Shepard."

Shepard saw Garrus's finger pull inward. Jumping forward, he slammed into the Turian, causing him to stumble and the gun to drop from his grasp, but not before he had fired off a lone bullet, which sped through the air, heading straight for where the Illusive Man calmly sat.


	26. Chapter 26

**A/N: I'm incredibly sorry about the lengthy update gap. I have literally had no time to work on this story. I wrote this entire chapter today, so please don't be expecting this to be some incredibly fine-tuned work of art that would require the month its taken to reach publication. I just tried to get it out before something else came up. It's been the busiest month I've had that I can remember. School work has been such a pain of late. Hope you enjoy it, either way! Please read, review, laugh, cry, lift your glasses in a toast, whatever floats your boat!**

Chapter 26

Signal

The bullet sped clean through the Illusive Man's forehead, a small blink as the projectile slammed into his head his only acknowledgment of its existence. He blinked again as it exited, frowning distastefully as he heard it impact the wall behind him.

"Shepard, I hope you know you're Turian friend just cost me thousands of credits in repairs," the Illusive Man stated matter-of-factly, seeming unaware of the shot that by all rights should have killed him, would have killed him had it passed through any more than an image, a mere projection of a living being.

Garrus stared in shock after recovering from his brief stumble, his grip on his assault rifle tightening unconsciously. He raised the gun once more, and fired experimentally at the figure, this time assuring Shepard had no time to impede his test. He watched as the bullets passed harmlessly through the human's body, the only result of the impacts small rippling distortions of the image, as if reflected on water. Shepard looked up once again as the piercing sound of the gunfire had subsided.

"Garrus, just what in the Hell do you think you're doing?" he whispered quietly.

"Target practice. Just like one of those silhouettes they have at shooting ranges, except this one has a realistic anatomy."

"But why did you shoot in the first place? Before you knew he wasn't there, that he was just a damn hologram?" The words were harsh, carrying an ominous, unseen weight with them.

"I," the Turian paused, grasping for the right words, but with none forthcoming. "I don't know. Something just came over me, some kind of hatred. Everything he's done to hurt our races, I thought he deserved to die. God knows he's killed people in his time."

"That isn't an excuse!" Shepard was on the verge of shouting, stepping forward and glaring up at the Turian. Garrus stepped backwards, not wanting to further anger the livid human.

"I'm sorry," he said, the words coming out stronger than he felt, his voice remaining stable. The words didn't carry any true conviction.

Scowling, Shepard turned once again to face the Illusive Man. "You deceiving asshole. I didn't think I'd ever find another reason to be glad I blew that damn collector base to Hell and beyond. You can't even meet anyone face to face, can you? How many people have you actually been in the same room with in the last twenty years? Filthy coward." He spit the last words out venomously, swiveling away from the hologram as he did so.

"Adam," Tali spoke up suddenly from where she stood. "I've just traced the signal we discovered earlier."

Shepard's head snapped upwards to look at her, Illusive Man momentarily forgotten. His attention turned away from the man who still sat, puffing at cigarette, he did not see the human's disinterested features tense for a moment before he once again gained control of his cold, wintry façade.

"Any explanation?" Shepard asked contemptuously, attention once again returning to the hologram, icy gaze staring him in robotic blue eyes that readily returned the glare. "It would certainly make my life a hell of a lot easier. Or you could do as you've always seemed so fond of doing, and leave me fumbling in the dark. But know this, if you keep me guessing this time, I will find you, and I get the distinct feeling that our meeting will not be as cordial as this one. I might even give Garrus the opportunity to take some more target practice. He always does need to stay on top of his game."

"Shepard, you're mistaking me for an enemy here," the Illusive Man replied calmly, as if trying to placate a child. "When have I ever committed an atrocity that would implicate me? Please stop trying to cast me as a villain, Shepard."

"I wouldn't be doing it if I hadn't seen the horrible things Cerberus has done in the past," Shepard began before he was cut off.

"I was simply looking out for the welfare of the human race, one that seems to have been forgotten by every institution in this galaxy, including the Systems Alliance, which was originally created to defend it. Cerberus is merely making sure humanity isn't used as a stepping stone for the other races, a species to be cast aside by the Turians and the Asari, as we've seen happen so many times."

"What about the Quarians?" Tali suddenly said sharply, threateningly. She took a menacing step forward, but the gesture was wasted on the image that contemplated her coolly. "I'd like to hear your attempts at justifying the attack on the Idenna."

"The Quarians have the largest armada in the galaxy, and with the geth fleet attacking the Citadel, with you as their creators, we had no way of knowing if the two events had any correlation."

"So you killed my people? Innocent, productive members of society?" Tali asked, growing openly hostile.

"I don't want to hear you explain yourself," Shepard cut in. "What I want to hear you explain is the origin of the signal that we've picked up, and are now tracing."

"I'm afraid I'd prefer to keep that information to myself."

"As I said before," Shepard said, his voice dropping with barely constrained anger, "It would be greatly beneficial to both of us if you would simply tell me what it is that you're hiding. Please try to understand our position here. Somebody is killing my people, including Nyxeris, who is apparently an operative for the Shadow Broker, whom you are evidently in contact with. A good chunk of the evidence puts you out as the prime suspect in this matter, and when we trace this signal, you're going to have Hell to pay if you don't give us a forewarning as to what it is we're going to find."

"Shepard, what motive could I possible have for killing your people? None of them represent any threat to humanity, and most even seem to owe us some loyalty. I'd be foolish to eliminate any possible benefactors. And as to me having Hell to pay, I believe that will only happen after my death, and I plan on staying alive for many years to come. It isn't as if you know where I am, either way. Nobody who knows my true identity does. I'm a very cautious man, Shepard. I haven't exactly laid out a trail for you to find me. There isn't anything with which you can threaten me."

"I'm a firm believer in the theory that nothing is impossible," Shepard replied matter-of-factly. "I've already annihilated a race of machine Gods Hell-bent on the destruction of organic life, machines that had been in existence for countless millions of years, and had their craft down to a science. Somehow, I think finding the location of a single man will be child's play, illusive as you may be."

"In that case, I'd like to wish you the best of luck. God Speed, Shepard." The image of the Illusive Man slowly began to fade, the points of light that made up his body beginning to flicker and fade, esoteric nodes of pale, ghostly luminescence. After a few moments, even the glowing tip of his omnipresent cigarette had faded into Oblivion. The image of the swirling gases of the sun remained projected against the back wall, its haunting image reflected in the sleek black surface of the floor. The large room seemed to stretch on for miles, the solid walls seeming almost non-existent in the strange shadows cast by the sun's illumination. Instead, they seemed to stretch on for miles before meeting the ceiling at some distant, artificial horizon.

Suddenly, the voice of the Illusive Man crackled over a distant intercom system. His voice was distorted through the heavy door, but they could still faintly decipher the distant words.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, please be aware that we have a group of esteemed guests in our humble facility today, including the seemingly immortal Commander Shepard. They have free run of out entire complex. Please make no attempt to impede their progress, or there shall be Hell to pay." Shepard could almost hear the humor in the man's voice with the last line.

Mordin turned where he stood, swiveling on his heel to face the thick, black doors, the sun's image clearly reflected in its polished surface. Tendrils snaked outwards, the star's corona shone with a bright radiance, the dark surface only serving to further illuminate the projection.

With a gentle push, the door swung inward, its only sound the rush of air as the door cut swiftly through the dead calm on silent, greased hinges. Miranda glance around the room as they exited, allowing the others room to pass her by.

"Are you alright?" Liara asked, pausing in the doorway to look back at the woman, who stood alone, seemingly transfixed by beautifully haunting image.

"Yes, I'm fine. It's just sinking in that I'll probably never see this again. I mean, I had already figured that when I left to help bring Shepard back, but being here, seeing this place, now it actually feels real. I'm walking away from more than half my life."

"While that may be true, it also gives you the freedom to look back on what they've done, what they're still doing. Leaving this behind may well prove the single greatest decision you've made in your life."

"I know, even when I was working with Cerberus, there were nights when I would lie awake and wonder if I was doing the right thing. I convinced myself pretty well, but there always was that one shred of doubt. I think that shred was what kept me from going over the edge. If I ever did something I couldn't make myself justify, I don't know what I'd do. I'm glad I'm cutting my ties with this place, don't get me wrong. It just feels like I'm also cutting ties with myself, the self I've been since I was a teenager." Miranda was silent for a moment, taking a final glance around the room before letting out a sigh. "We've let them get far enough ahead, already, Liara. We should probably start trying to make up lost ground. And all this nostalgia can't possibly be good for me." The two women exited the room, the door closing shut behind them with an indisputable finality. They walked side by side, together in mutual respect.

* * *

They stepped outside into the desolate ruin of the abandoned factory, blinking in the sudden onslaught of light that exploded after the dim, artificial lighting of the hidden complex. They had proceeded through the building untouched, as the Illusive Man had ordered. The one person who had chanced across their path had simply looked up, given a curt nod, and continued on his business.

Garrus had thought the entire trip had turned out with far too little hostility against them. Something had seemed too easy about the entire venture, despite the fact that they had learned nothing of value. Perhaps that had been the reason they walked with free without having faced any form of opposition. They were no more a threat then when they had walked in. That, and the fact that the facility didn't maintain a huge permanent workforce, and of those it did employ, relatively few were likely to have more than a preliminary education in the use of firearms. The Cerberus facility was built for stealth, not displays of power.

Absorbed in his thoughts, Garrus barely registered their return trip on the taxi to the space dock. He once again retreated into contemplative thought as they meandered through the throngs of people, until he almost ran headfirst into Shepard, who had pulled up short, and was staring at something in the crowd. Or rather, someone. Garrus traced his line of sight to the retreating head of a man, moving slowly, carefully through the crowd, his pace inciting angry whispers of those who pushed themselves furiously passed him in their rush. He flinched as one bumped into him roughly, a hand reaching up to massage his arm. A long outdated hat rested on his head, a throwback to the times when baseball still existed on Earth. He looked remarkably familiar.

"Joker!" Shepard called out from beside him.

* * *

**A/N: Despite the fact that this story has no credits, I've decided to implement the use of a credit song, anyway, because everything is made more awesome with music. So, I'll be including a link to the song at the end of each chapter, just remove the spaces and copy and paste it in to the website bar! (It's name escapes me right now, I'm afraid), and enjoy it over the imaginary end credits! Oh, and have a piece of candy. Not that many trick or treaters came by today, so I have a surplus of candy sitting around in a big bowl!**

http :/www. youtube. com /watch? v=cB61QMSwAsg

**The Sound of Muzak - Porcupine Tree**


	27. Chapter 27

**A/N: Woo! The first two day update gap I've had since the publication of the first chapter! This is more just an apology for being so slow before. I want to make it up to you guys, cause you're awesome! (Readers get an awesome point. Reviewers get two awesome points. Regular reviewers get three, because you guys are the ones I can always count on to stick with me, no matter how bad a chapter a sucks!)**

Chapter 27

Reunion

The man in the baseball hat paused for a moment, but then shook his head as if to clear it, and proceeded on his painful trek. Shepard called out after the receding figure once more. "Joker!"

This time, the call was loud enough that it could not be passed off as some far off noise that could just be a trick played by the ambient sound that flooded the ports. Several heads swiveled to gawp at the source of the noise, the man in the baseball hat included. His eyes scanned confusedly over the sea of faces, looking for someone, anyone that might be able to differentiate the caller from the rest of the throng. His eyes darted past Shepard's amused expression, only to glance back a second later, his mind taking a moment to register the familiar face. When he did, though, a smile broke across his face, and he turned, cleaving through the sea of humanity pushing against him, trying to force him back into the current, clutching his arm in pain at the constant sudden contact. Looking on in concern, Shepard quickly pressed forward, weaving in between Earth's many inhabitants.

He finally reached Joker's side, who still cradled his arm, but with his grimace quickly receding.

"Are you alright? Did you break anything?"

"Just because I have Vrolik's Syndrome doesn't mean I break bones at the slightest contact."

"I seem to recall you saying you could break bones just by walking several years ago."

"That was back on the Sr-1, before Cerberus strengthened my bones somewhat. Say what you will, Commander, but if they hadn't conducted those procedures, we'd all have been Collector fodder long ago."

"And yet, all those extensive bone strengthening surgeries, and you still fractured your thumb on a tiny mute button."

"In my defense, I hit that button really damn hard. Sometimes when I'm making a point, I can get a little over zealous. And you could theoretically fracture your thumb as well, provided you hit the button hard enough."

"That would take some serious doing on my part, I believe."

"Rub it in, Commander."

"Technically, I'm not a Commander anymore. I'm not affiliated with any military factions as of right now. I guess you could call me a free-lancer, if you want."

"Generally, that would imply your working as a mercenary, and unless something's changed drastically in the last month since you died, you're the kind of person who doesn't take to contracts. You have a tendency to just go do whatever the Hell you want."

"I'm glad to see you're so nonchalant about my rising from the dead."

"I've learned not to be surprised by that kind of thing, anymore. You're Commander Shepard! Death is just an extended nap time for you. A chance to catch up on lost sleep."

"If you think things are that easy, I could put a bullet in your head right here."

"I didn't say it was easy for everybody!" Joker said, raising his hands in mock fear. "You're just one lucky bastard to have as many friends as you do."

"It's one of the benefits that comes from not cracking pathetic jokes every other time I open my mouth."

"That was low, even for you, Shepard."

"I saved the galaxy several times. I think I've earned the right to laugh at your expense."

"I wouldn't mind it, if you were funny, Shepard," Garrus called out from behind him. "But your attempts at jokes would have been better off unspoken."

At his comment, Tali was unable to suppress the slightest giggle.

"Et tu, Tali?" Shepard asked, placing a hand across his chest, feigning a wound.

"I'm sorry, my translator didn't pick up what you just said," Tali replied, eyes scanning the system's readout inside her helmet.

"That's because it's a dead language. Nobody speaks Latin anymore. Probably because anyone who tried to learn it in the last thousand years died of boredom."

"I'd still be interested in finding out what you said, though," Tali sighed.

"You do realize that if I explained it, it would come across as a boring history lesson, right?" Shepard said, the sentence more of a statement than a question.

"Some guy got stabbed by his friend a long time ago," Joker blurted out.

"Well, you handled that with such tact!" Shepard said, rolling his eyes. "That completely summarized the entire event!"

"I wasn't about to let my degree in European history go to waste," Joker responded with a wink.

"I bet you breezed through that class," Shepard muttered under his breath.

"Damn straight," Joker replied, a note of mocking humor present in his voice.

Tali still watched them, just as confused as before.

"Shepard quoted a famous human emperor from an early civilization known as Rome named Julius Caesar. Some of the other members of the government rebelled and stabbed him to death, including his friend Marcus Junius Brutus. The proper quote was 'Et tu, Brute?' which means you too, Brutus?" Miranda explained quietly.

"Oh God, don't tell me you've been genetically engineered to be the perfect textbook, as well," Joker quipped.

"Mr. Moreau, please shut up," Tali said jokingly.

"I don't believe I've ever heard you say that before," the pilot chuckled.

"I haven't needed to. I always guessed you would be the first I'd have the opportunity to say it to," Tali answered matter-of-factly.

"Glad to see you have such a high opinion of me."

"She just meant that you're an asshole," Garrus said, mandibles quirking into the semblance of a grin. "A pretty awesome asshole, especially when you're insulting the Commander, but an asshole nonetheless."

"Well, I'm glad to see we're getting all these long pent up feelings out of the water, but can we at least wait till we get on the Atlantic?" Shepard asked good-naturedly.

"The Atlantic?" Joker asked, confused.

"Yeah, you saw the Normandy get blasted to Hell. Unfortunately, without some insane, power-hungry sociopath with weird eyes as our temporary benevolent benefactor, we no longer have anyone to build us a replacement Normandy," Shepard explained, the faintest hint of melancholy present in his voice.

"Shepard, I'd love to come with you, but I'm holding down a steady job here, making a decent living. I'm not sure I need the excitement anymore," he said earnestly.

Shepard stared in disbelief at the slightly shorter man, who still limped next to him. Then a grin spread across his features, and he began to laugh, in which Joker quickly joined.

"You really had me going there, for a second!"

"Did I really? I thought you were supposed to be able to read people, Shep. Weren't you once known as the galaxy's greatest diplomat?"

"First of all, if by diplomat, you mean big man who runs in and blows stuff up, then yes. If you mean someone who actually practiced true diplomacy, negotiating treaties and the like, they you're way off the mark. And secondly, what do you mean once known as? Have I lost my touch?"

"I didn't say that. But I'm going to keep it as once known, because as far as the rest of the galaxy knows, you're still a charred corpse floating in space."

"They should meet you, you're much more dashing in person," Garrus called out from a couple feet behind them. "The burn marks are negligible."

"Says the Turian with the mangled face," Shepard replied sardonically.

"Hey, these scars are badass! They scream 'This guy is a fighter.' I can't tell you how many people have been getting the hots for me since it happened. Hell, if you were a woman, Shepard, even you might want to nail me."

"I doubt it, Scarface," Shepard mocked.

"Again, my scars are epic. Your burn scars make it look like you fell on a grill," Garrus retorted.

"If you want, I could make it even more badass," Shepard said, an evil grin forming on his face. "We could always even it out on the other side."

"It's good to see your sadism is still alive and well," Joker spoke up.

"If you took that away, he wouldn't be Shepard," Tali joked. "I believe the rest of his personality is built on that fact."

"I'm glad to see everyone here hates me," Shepard sad, faking sadness.

"Not true. Do not hate you, Shepard. Hard to see why others would. Can be very selfless, always looking out for crew," Mordin said, approaching quickly to walk beside the Commander. "Wait. Was sarcasm. Apologies, sarcasm not used in Salarian society, hard to get used to."

"Ah, good to see ya, Doctor," Joker said amiably, quickly reaching out to give the Salarian a handshake. Mordin looked curiously down at his outstretched hand. "Is something wrong? Perhaps fractured phalanges. No, would be bent at odd angle, likely solicit greater pain response…" He trailed off. Joker tilted his head to the side inquisitively, a faint smile forming as he regarded the Doctor.

"I believe we have arrived at the Dock," Liara said, breaking her contemplative silence. In front of them, the Atlantic sat, weighed down by the large docking clamps.

"Wow, this is quite a step down, Shepard, especially for you," Joker said, glancing up and down the ship distastefully.

"Well, look on the bright side. If you can fly the Normandy, you can fly any piece of crap I throw at you," Shepard remarked.

"I'd prefer it if you kept your crap to yourself, actually," came the inevitable reply.

Shepard approached the comm terminal, and pushed a button on the side. A crackling noise sounded as the ancient system interfaced, before there came a "Hello?" through the small outer terminal.

"Wilson? Shepard. Please open the airlock."

"Will do, Sir."

The connection cut out, replaced by the sudden grinding of gears, and the harsh grating of metal as the door on the side of the ship opened to greet them.

"Who was that?" Joker asked curiously.

"Brendan Wilson, a temporary pilot of ours," Shepard answered. "We hired him to make a quick jump to Earth, until we could find someone more important. Guess that's one thing I can check off my to-do list, now."

"Good to see I'm worth a checkmark on a scrap of paper," Joker said.

"You aren't worth the luxury of paper. It's a digital file."

"Always ruining my good mood, aren't you, Shepard?"

"That's what I'm here for. That, and saving your ass."

"Except for the time I saved your ass, when the ship was ambushed by the Collectors."

"That was after you already let me die," Shepard pointed out. "You redeemed yourself once. About a thousand more of those, and we'll call it even, how's that grab you?"

"I think you're exaggerating a bit there. I believe the actual figure is more like 950."

"Close enough. I was estimating."

A man approached from the cockpit.

"Ah, Mr. Wilson. I was just about to come see you. I'm sure you'll be happy to learn that you're free to leave whenever you want. In addition to the salary for the trip, here's some money to pay for a return flight to Proteus." Shepard pulled out a small credit chit and handed it across to the other man.

"Thank you, Sir." The man gave a quick salute and exited the airlock just as the rest of the team entered.

"Can I get one of those?" Joker asked mockingly, pointing at the chit that dangled from the exiting pilot's hand.

"Sorry, Jeff. You don't get an allowance till you earn it. So get cracking!"

"Well, aside from the crappy ship, everything feels back to normal now!" Joker said happily. "It is good to see you again, Commander."

"You too, Joker. Now go fly, before I get all choked up."

* * *

**A/N: Alright, time for the credit song!**

**Pine Woods - Korpiklaani**

http :/www. / watch?v= zEVJFSUjvNo


	28. Chapter 28

**A/N: I'm really sorry about the series of short chapters recently. I have all the chapters planned out, what I want to happen in each one, and for these ones I've felt adding on unneeded fluff to what I've written would actually detract slightly from the story, so look on the bright side! You could either have a (somewhat) passable 2,000 word chapter, or a mediocre 3,000 word one. Also, this chapter has a major emotion shift about half-way through. I'm not entirely sure I pulled it off, though. It could either come across as good juxtaposition, or just a jarring shift, and I'm not entirely sure which, and I sincerely apologize if it's the latter. As always, read and review! We're slowly closing in on that 100 review mark, and I'm really looking forward to that when it gets there. Until then, all you reviewers so far have a special place in my heart, but especially you regular reviewers. You guys are the best, really. Thanks for your continued support! Now, please, enjoy! **

Chapter 28

This is Regret

"My God, Shepard, I know I've said this before, but you've really taken a step down."

"Joker, please get off my case. I'm this close to picking you up and throwing you off the ship at the next port."

"You'd never do that. You don't want to get stuck with the hospital bill. You're nothing if not a tightwad."

"You know the only reason you got those holiday bonuses back on the Normandy ships was because I could afford it. But you could call all that endless kindness the work of a tightwad, if you want. I get the right to call you a hopeless asshole. You can't even get screwed without breaking a hip. Sometimes I feel like I'm talking to an old man the way you go on about your bones."

"First of all, don't hold me accountable for bad genes. Secondly, I don't care about those bonuses anymore, considering I've already spent all the money I earned from them anyway."

"Let me guess, half was on hookers, and the other half was on wheelchairs after each encounter. I may be a tightwad, but you're an absolutely hopeless head case."

"I'm ashamed you think so little of me. I only needed to spend a quarter on the wheelchairs. I'm still reaping the benefits of those Cerberus procedures. When you find him, do me a favor and cut him some slack."

"I never thought I'd see the day you'd be sympathizing with him."

"I never thought I'd see the day you gave me enough shore leave to actually get myself a social life. I can tell you, that man doesn't seem half as bad, now."

Shepard and Joker stood silent beside each other, watching the stars drift lazily past the monitor, seeming to remain as fixed points of lights in the vast, endless expanse, the never ending black ocean that extended further than was possible to imagine, even in dreams.

"Sometimes I don't know whether to be inspired or terrified." All Shepard's words managed to solicit was a questioning glance from the pilot who sat in the chair behind which he stood.

"Space," Shepard merely responded, swinging an arm out to cover all the points of luminescence on the terminal screen, and beyond, including all the starts, planets, galaxies, universes not displayed on the hologram. "It's constant, it'll always be here. Someday, I'll die, and my cells will all be so completely degenerated that no one can bring me back, ever again, but this will still be here. It was here before the reapers, and now after the reapers. It'll see the rise and fall of countless civilizations, all collapsing in the mere blink of an eye, as far as the bigger picture is concerned. Everything any species has managed to build up here, as long lasting as they may seem to have been, is insignificant in the grand scheme of things. How long will it be before every species here, now, is dead and gone, and everything we've created is dust, not even a memory anymore?"

"Maybe our insignificance is why we still haven't been able to make the best thing since sliced bread."

"Remind me to never try to be philosophical around you."

"I'm sorry, but I can't take all that sentimental stuff, Shepard. It bores me to tears."

"You're lucky I haven't gotten sick of you yet."

"You know it's impossible to hate me," Joker said innocently, beaming up at the Commander who still leaned passively against the back of the leather pilot's seat. He still wore the old, battered N7 armor, despite having severed ties with the Systems Alliance years before. The armor no longer represented humanity's savior; the entire galaxy was left believing he had saved them years ago from the Collectors, and that he had died two months ago fighting a terrorist organization. When he had walked through the Citadel with Tali, he remembered the curious looks that had been drawn to him, their faces marveling in curiosity at the walking dead man, but their incredulity would quickly be replaced by looks of contempt, assuming he was just an insane fan who had gotten facial reconstruction surgery, someone who refused to let go of his pathetic hero worship at the Commander's death, and had taken it upon himself to carry on the great man's legacy. Shepard couldn't hide the fact that he enjoyed the lack of notoriety. Humanity could get a new savior, he had already made the ultimate sacrifice twice, and he was loathe to do so yet again.

"It's impossible to hate you now," Shepard corrected. "Give it a few months, and the conversation won't be quite so civil."

"It must've been Hell putting up with me on the Normandy for four years, then," Joker remarked, a small smile on his face.

"The Normandy was much more complex than this, and we needed a top-notch pilot to keep the ship under control," Shepard began.

"There, I'm amazing! I knew it all along; you just didn't want me getting too headstrong!" Joker shouted mockingly, glancing up at the Commander with a devilish gleam in his eye.

"Let me finish," Shepard said, grinning back evilly. "With this piece of crap, though, we could pick up any random pilot off the street to fly this thing. So, how does it feel being expendable?"

"It feels exactly like my life for the last two months, actually. The Alliance seems to think I'm more trouble than I'm worth," Joker said, almost sadly. Shepard stood, nodding his head in agreement.

"Maybe those Alliance people are smarter than I gave them credit for," he laughed.

"At least I've managed to live to be thirty without having to have friends come in and intervene. I think your body by itself is worth over a billion credits. If I'm ever in a tight situation, I'm going to come carve you up and sell your nano-tech for money. But anyway, the Alliance gave me shipping money for a trip to Earth, and ever since I've been trying to find work, working small jobs around the ports there. When you found me, I was running small shipping jobs for some local merchant. I never got to see what he was selling, I'm not even sure if it was legal. I didn't ask; I needed the money, and asking to many questions would get me fired, at best. Can't say I'm too upset to end my association with that bastard."

"Well, I'll leave you to get acquainted with the new systems," Shepard said, turning towards the door.

"I figured all this crap out the minute I stepped on board," Joker responded. "I've seen flush toilets with more complex systems."

"Careful what you say, Joker. This isn't helping me change my mind about your current expendability."

* * *

Garrus sat cross-legged on the edge of one of the several military cots in the room. He had a sleeper-pod, as did the rest of the crew, but the cot provided a much more convenient place to sit and think.

He sat massaging his temples, trying to force away the headache that had been worsening the entire length of their trip on Earth. He had already taken several painkillers that had done little to ease the pain. He lay back, closing his eyes, not wanting to traverse the meager distance across the ship to get to his pod in the main crew barracks. Just as he felt himself beginning to drift off, he heard the slight change in air flow as the door to the room slid almost silently away.

"Are you alright?" The voice sounded concerned. Garrus blinked his eyes open, sitting slowly up. Shepard leaned against the room's wall, one foot resting on the well behind him, bent comfortably at the knee.

"Yeah, just have a pounding headache. I'll live."

"Well I hope so. If a headache kills you, you're more pathetic than you've led me to believe."

"Watch yourself, Shepard. A Turian on his deathbed could easily kick a healthy human's ass nine times out of ten, and I'm not even close to my deathbed. I'm not in the mood for jokes right now," he said with a grimace.

"Well, I'll keep this short, then," Shepard said, his voice suddenly changing to something darker, more ominous. "What the Hell was that back on Earth?"

"What the Hell was what, Shepard?" Garrus asked, threatening, slowly climbing to his feet. His seven foot figure towered over Shepard, who stood his ground nonetheless.

"I shot a reaper to death, Garrus. You think you can intimidate me here? Just tell me what went on down there? Why did you shoot at him?" Shepard's voice never rose, but his serenity was disconcerting.

"I don't know," the Turian said, backing down, sprawling back across the bed. "Something just snapped for a minute. But can you really look me in the eyes and tell me the galaxy wouldn't be a better place without him?"

"That isn't the point!" Shepard said, his voice finally rising in pitch. "I've made some decisions I regret. My decisions let the Council die all those years ago. Maybe things would have been different if they had lived, maybe they would have listened to my warnings about the Reapers, I don't know. But I have never, in all my time here, ever pulled the trigger against an unarmed man. Do you realize what you'd be going through if the Illusive Man had died? Maybe the galaxy would be better off, but you don't want to live with the guilt. I live with enough guilt here without ever having done anything like that. I can't imagine what you went through after you shot Sidonis. God knows I regret helping you do it."

"Don't lecture me, Shepard," Garrus growled. "If I ever want you to play at being my conscience again, I'll ask you. Until then, how about you just leave me to deal with my own decisions?"

"Because you can't," Shepard's voice was soft again, but no longer threatening. He sounded tired, resigned. "Most people can't. Lord knows I can't. This is why I want to leave all these military operations. I had to make too many choices, and I don't know how many of them were right. I don't even know if there are any truly right choices. Maybe everything I've ever done is just a means to an end. If people do have a purpose, maybe mine was to make choices any sane person would just walk away from. I'm trying to keep you from falling any further into my world."

Garrus was silent for a moment, eyes still closed tightly shut, seeming to be asleep. Shepard turned to leave, but was stopped at the door by the Turian's voice. "I don't think there's much I can say, Shepard. Except that you are right. If he did die, it might kill me. But I'm not sure if it would. Maybe that's what scares me. I'm so quick to kill, what if one die I become one of them, and it's someone else who has to come and kill me, to save other people. What if they were right?"

"Don't let me hear you say that again," Shepard said, angrily again. "Don't even begin to think like that. The other thing I've learned from making all these decisions is that they're gone, and no matter how bad you screwed things up, they aren't going to change. I'm still sane because I've learned to move past my mistakes. I've learned to rationalize them. You don't have to believe yourself if you say it was for the greater good, but if you tell yourself you did the right thing enough, instead of killing yourself over every decision, you'll start to believe it."

"Are you saying I did the right thing, pulling the trigger?"

"No, I'm warning what you'll eventually have to do. Please don't have to sink as low as I've had to in the past. It still hurts, but what really scares me is I think I've become desensitized to death. The first person I killed was shooting at me, on a military operation. I killed him out of self-defense, self-preservation, and it still haunted me for over a week afterwards. But now, now everything's just numb. I don't enjoy the killing, but it doesn't tear me apart anymore. It's almost as natural as walking. I hate what I've become, but I keep reminding myself that no matter how many I've killed, I've saved more than that. I hope I'm right."

Shepard left the room before Garrus could respond, leaving the Turian to lay back down on the cot, trying to force himself to sleep, but no longer able.

* * *

**A/N: Okay, the credits song this time I think is actually a very good song to close this on, fits the tone pretty well. I highly recommend you listen for the full experience. **

**Nine Inch Nails - Hurt**

http :/www. youtube. com /watch?v= g0bZtf5MCzY


	29. Chapter 29

**A/N: Nothing much to say here, so I'll just include this will probably be the last chapter that takes place entirely on the Atlantic for awhile, the next chapter should jump back into the action, or at least as a pretense to it. And as always, please read and review! **

Chapter 29

"It looks like the signal is coming from the Faryar System," Tali said, hunched over the glowing holographic monitor. Her hands ran gently across its surface, twisting and contorting the projected image where it seemed to float in space, illuminated by an esoteric blue glow. She continued to manipulate the projected image, trying to pinpoint the origination of the pulsing waves, but the source remained obscure, resting just out of reach of her fingers. "I'm sorry, I can't narrow it down any further." She muttered a curse under her breath, softly enough that it wasn't picked up and projected by her mask's sound receptors. She looked across the room, eyes locked onto its one other occupant. She found herself glad of the privacy of the mask, the polarized surface hiding her gaze from him.

"Again with the self-deprecation? Tali, I thought I've told you many times that all you're far more talented than you give yourself credit for," Shepard said, smiling as he shook his head in feign impatience.

"Adam, I believe I've discovered the secret as to why you are never able to accomplish anything."

"Other than saving every species in the Universe from complete annihilation?"

"Yes, other than that."

"Well then, I'd be glad to hear your expert advice, Miss Zorah," Shepard said, giving a small bow.

"Well, it seems you have mistaken self-deprecation with a drive to improve upon your accomplishments. And if you think admitting you aren't perfect is essentially the same thing as admitting you are completely hopeless, then you'll never achieve anything, because you're too scared to admit everything didn't turn out exactly as you had hoped. And that would just tear you apart, considering how much your greatest love in the galaxy is yourself."

"Second greatest love," Shepard quickly corrected. "Three guesses as to the first," he added with a smile.

"Let's raise the stakes a little," Tali replied. "I can't be sure, but I think I could get it in one."

"Ah, gambler, are you?" Shepard asked raising his eyebrows.

"Only when the odds are in my favor, Adam," she responded. Before he could say anything else, however, she simply walked up to him, and took his hand in hers. "I love you too, Shepard." Reaching out, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders, bring her limber form tightly against his chest.

"Aren't we the cute couple," a voice said from the room's entrance.

"Hello, Garrus. Glad to see you're done with the whole angst charade," Shepard said nonchalantly, still remaining locked in the embrace.

"It got boring once I couldn't get anyone to give me any pity," Garrus joked, smiling at his own words.

"Misguided sense of humor, check. Jealously fueled insult of anyone who has a partner, check. Adam, it appears the indigenous asshole Turian is back," Tali said, in a whisper just loud enough for the words to carry to where Garrus stood across the room.

"That hurts, Tali. What would you do if I went and killed myself after you made that little statement?"

"I don't think we have to worry about that eventuality," Shepard answered. "Apparently, Tali sees all the men on this ship as self-absorbed pricks."

"That isn't true!" Tali shouted indignantly, trying to force down her laughter. "Mordin seems quite humble, actually."

"Is Mordin even a man?" Garrus asked Shepard over Tali's shoulder. The Commander simply gave a small shrug in response.

"I'm telling him your him of your high opinions next time I see him," Tali responded.

"Careful, Tali. He might sing Gilbert and Sullivan at you. It's a more traumatic experience than you might initially expect," Shepard warned matter-of-factly.

"And it sounds pretty terrifying to begin with," Garrus spoke up from where he leaned idly against the wall.

"Do you have any idea what Gilbert and Sullivan is?" Shepard asked accusingly.

"Not at all, but the prospect of Mordin singing in general is enough to elicit a fearful response," Garrus countered. Before Shepard could respond, the door opened once more, the swift movement as the door slid out of sight within the wall drawing Shepard's eyes to the newest arrival.

"Shepard, I need to speak with you, immediately," Miranda said breathlessly.

"Can we just discuss whatever it is here?" Shepard asked casually. Miranda stood silent for a moment, her face passive and unreadable as she watched Tali, still held in Shepard's arms.

"I guess that would be okay," Miranda finally consented, none of the others seeming to pick up on the slight hesitation before her final answer.

"Fantastic. What was it that you needed?"

"My omnitool server has completely shut down. There aren't any files remaining, all the applications I had are deleted, when I open it, it's like looking at a blank screen."

"Maybe the microchip failed," Shepard suggested.

"That wouldn't work," Tali responded, her words muttered almost to herself. She stepped back from Shepard's embrace, moving to stand at Miranda's side, bringing lifting the woman's arm up, accessing the tool's interface to clarify her point. "If it was a simple problem with the microchip, we couldn't even access the device. As it is, we can access the screen as normal; there just simply is nothing there. I'd say it looks like every single memory log was somehow wiped."

"Is that even possible?" Miranda whispered. "I thought they were supposed to be un-hackable! If they can be accessed remotely like that, why is it that nobody has ever been able to route an electrical current through an enemy's omnitool? That's much more effective than overload, because it bypasses shields completely and theoretically could kill someone on its first utilization, given a high enough signal."

"Before you start planning any combat tactics around this, this should be impossible. The firewalls that are built into this are actually built into every circuit in the microchip, there shouldn't be a way to circumvent the security, because the microchip is registered to a single user and shuts out anyone else as soon as an owner is programmed. And I assume you've had your omnitool registered to your signature for a long time, correct?"

"Yes. But if what you're saying is true, then how did this happen in the first place?"

"Someone apparently found something that could disengage the firewalls," Tali said coolly. "And if that's true, they would have likely had to concentrate whatever it is to target us."

"Damn it," Garrus suddenly said, still frozen in his stance against the wall. "So you're saying we're going up against someone that has a tech weapon that could disable our abilities to combat it?"

"It seems that's a likely possibility, yes," Miranda said, shaking her head angrily.

"It is possible," Tali replied, beginning to trail off in thought. Suddenly, she snapped back, her head swiveling to look at Miranda even as she raised the arm with her own omnitool. Her fingers passed over the digital interface, the movement so practiced that she began to speak to the former Cerberus operative, not once watching the three digits as they finished the instinctual motion. "If whatever happened actually did eliminate one of the protective blocks, then it may still be down, and I can access it, maybe even pinpoint the origins."

Finally, as she felt the faint wash of heat, noticeable only to her trained and honed senses that indicated the removal of a firewall block did she glance downwards. "Keelah." Her voice was soft, muted by shock. Instead of the mass of icons representing each individual function, only the soft, white backdrop remained, devoid of even the basic, pre-programmed utilities.

"What is it?" Shepard asked, a note of worry coming into his voice.

"The same thing happened to mine as it did Miranda's, and I installed a double firewall system for twice the security normally produced on these things!" Furiously, she tore the device from her wrist, hurling it against the wall before storming out of the room.

"Tali!" Shepard called anxiously after her, but she had already disappeared, and his words received no answer. "Damn," he muttered, softly enough that only he was able to hear his own words, before rushing out after her.

He found her sitting inside an open sleeper pod, the lid raised, her legs dangling over the side. Her head hung forward, and crouching down at her side, he saw a lone tear drop frozen in place within her mask, shining like a crystal as the polarized glass reflected the light. Her shoulders shuddered weakly, but no sound resonated from the small speakers that lay hidden beneath her veil. Rising from his squat, Shepard sat down beside her, draping his arm across her shoulder, holding her close.

"What are you doing in here? I thought we agreed that my quarters here were yours."

There was a short pause, followed by an almost inaudible click as the mask's audio receptors turned on and began to receive input. "I didn't know if you were going to go in there; the last thing you'd want is me sobbing and feeling sorry for myself and adding more troubles to your plate." Her voice was thick, trying to hold back a sob.

"Tali, what's wrong? Is there more to this than the busted omnitool?"

"It's just…I've become so accustomed to that thing, that it's become a part of me, almost like a third arm. I just feel so weak, and vulnerable knowing I don't have it, like I'm unprepared for something, and it scares me. I've spent days recalibrating it as well, enhancing security measures to prevent something like this from happening, but it's still gone. I've failed, I couldn't keep out a simple virus. Maybe I'm not the genius technical expert everyone claims I am."

"I think that theory needs to be discredited immediately," Shepard said earnestly, his hand beneath her visor, tilting her head to look at him. "You've done things nobody else has ever been able to do. How many people, or even Quarians, do you know of who've been able to salvage a geth memory core in the mere seconds after its death before it's erased beyond any hope of retrieval? And those countless times you've been able to save all our asses in the middle of a firefight by burning all those synthetics against each other, even as they're bearing down on you? I don't care what you say, even if I was a technical genius, I couldn't maintain my focus half as well as you do. And let's be honest here, if you weren't the prodigy that you are, we'd all have been obliterated by the Reapers before we even managed to destroy Sovereign. Whatever happened here was a freak occurrence, nobody could have foreseen it. And again, I'm no expert, but I don't think it was your security measures that were the problem. I think somebody has a found a way to completely ignore the defenses in the first place, shut it down before any precautions even register something's wrong."

"That isn't possible, the defenses are put in place so they can't be overridden by any known utility or signal, or anything else of that nature."

"Tali, the reapers were able to completely the genetic code of an entire species, and turn them into submissive, mindless slaves. I think that seems a little more impossible than breaking down a few security measures, as difficult as that process may be. And whoever it is that's attacking us has plenty of resources at their disposal, including the Blue Suns, it would seem."

"Are you saying whoever was behind disabling our omnitools is the same one who's trying to kill us?"

"I'm saying it doesn't seem all that far-fetched. And that would definitely give them a motive, as well, take out one of our primary lines of defense, our firewall, you could say, and leave us easier targets."

Suddenly, the door burst open, a panic stricken Mordin rushing into the space. "Shepard, tried to find you, horrible news!"

"I know, the omnitools are disabled. We'll have to pick up new ones if we can't re-access our current ones."

"No, irrelevant now, can be fixed later. This is much worse."

"Mordin, what is it?" Shepard said, rising, a note of impatience entering his tone.

"Come with me," he said quickly, a look of concern plastered across his features. "Not you, Miss Zorah, please, should remain here," he added, as the Quarian stood up to follow. She reluctantly sat back down again, her posture suddenly rigid with apprehension.

"Mordin, what the Hell is going on?"

* * *

**A/N: Credit time! The song today:**

**When the Weeping Dawn Beheld Its Mortal Thirst - Mournful Congregation**

http :/ www. youtube. com/ watch?v= EjfK3bcfZbA


	30. Chapter 30

**A/N: So, at long last, I present another installment of AtR! I'm really sorry once again for my absence. (God, it seems like I'm saying that every other chapter), but once again, my schedule until recently has been completely booked, what with finals, and rehearsals for the Crucible, and now my presence as a bassist in a band. So, to make a long story short, updates may be less frequent in the near future, although by no means non-existent. And I'd just like to once again thank those who've stuck with me through thick and thin. You guys make this enjoyable to write. (And on that note, I feel obligated to issue a formal apology): Dear Syroc, my God, I'm so sorry I haven't reviewed the last several chapters of Deadly Resurrection! I've been trying to find time to read those, and all the time I think I had seems to have disappeared. However, room finally appears to have at least been partially made, so I promise to have all 3 up before next Monday.**

Chapter 30

Cure

Shepard rushed to keep up with the Salarian doctor who walked brusquely, uncomfortably before him, all the while continuing his mantra of questions, none of which received any answer but a resolute silence, or a hushed, "Not here."

The duo quickly arrived outside the door to the small, makeshift laboratory. The door hissed open before them, a blast of cold air rushing out from the doorway. Inside, a mess of terminals adorned the small desk, some even plastered haphazardly against the dreary grey walls. Esoteric readings flashed across each individual monitor at near incomprehensible speeds, the information appearing and disappearing as quickly as it had come, only to be cycled an instant later to the next screen, the network continuing about the circular array. Empty vials clustered in dozens of small racks littered the multitude of shelves that had been precariously erected along the walls at uneven intervals. All manner of scientific paraphernalia lay cluttered on the small desk in the center of the room, some filled with vast assortments of liquid, some holding fine powders, some laying empty and abandoned, if only temporarily.

Against the wall, Kolyat leaned passively, eyes scanning across the ground, not focusing on anything particular. A look of worried comprehension passed across Shepard's face, but he shook his head, clearing it, dismissing the possibility until it was stated outright.

"Shepard," Mordin began, but faltered, for once rendered at a loss for words. He allowed the silence to stretch a moment, searching for what to say, but before he could come across it, the detached voice of the Drell cut through the still air.

"I'm going to follow in the ways of my father. The doctor ran some tests after I came to him with my concerns over symptoms I've been experiencing, and all tests came back indicating Kepral's Syndrome."

The room, tense before the cold, abrupt statement, now seemed to carry with it a weight all its own. Kolyat returned to his glum observance of the room, Mordin staring sadly down at his own feet, Shepard standing in shocked silence.

"I…I don't…Is there anything I can do?" he asked, tripping awkwardly over his words, dismissing them almost as soon as they were spoken.

"I appreciate the sentiment, but there really is nothing that can be done. That cure the Hanar were working on took nearly a decade to reach the stages it was in at the time of the sabotage. All the research is destroyed, and the researchers dead. Unless there is a cure being worked on in some other part of the galaxy that I'm unaware of, then I'm afraid I shall indeed become my father. It seems all the ways in which I end up following are in those he would want me to stay away from." The young Drell shook his head ironically, slowly stopping as his eyes glazed over, vacant stare across his face; lost in a wordless memory of some other time.

"I can search around places," Shepard said hopefully. "Trillions of galactic citizens, billions of scientists, I'm sure someone somewhere is working on a cure."

"Kolyat not listening, when solipsistic, Drell nearly impossible to interrupt, generally oblivious to all surroundings, discounting rare occasions. Either way, possibility of work on cure unlikely. Drell usually considered inferior race, subservient to Hanar. Case not always true of course, but general perceptions hard to break. Work for cure thought pointless waste of time and resources on primitive culture," Mordin countered. "Facts unfortunate, but true."

"Well, you're a genius, Mordin, wouldn't you be able to come up with something?" Shepard pleaded in little more than a whisper, quickly glancing over his shoulder to ensure Kolyat was still absorbed in his past world.

"Well, claims of genius appreciated, but not miracle-worker. Working alone, without partners, as I do now, could take 20 years. Team of Hanar took nearly ten, had multiple workers for project. Not enough time before disease shuts down Drell systems. Also, have no misconceptions regarding own lifespan. Already long past age of death of most Salarians. Likely have less than year to live as is."

"No, that isn't true, Mordin," Shepard said, trying to deny the facts himself. "You're in fantastic health, especially at your age. You have quite awhile left."

"Thank you for encouragement, but is unnecessary. Have already faced facts. Feel fine, now, but age beginning to take toll, feel tired lately, and sore. Will not die tomorrow, but do not have much longer."

"Mordin," Shepard begin softly, before the Salarian cut him off.

"Shepard, appreciate sentiment, but please, no sympathy. Have had hard times, but overall, led full life. As said before, have prepared. Am ready for death, few regrets, just…" he ended, his voice trailing off.

"Mordin, I've already told you the genophage modification was the right decision. I know the repercussions were horrible, but the lack of an updated virus might have been much worse. A Krogan I once knew, Urdnot Wrex, has personally told me that many of his kind have devolved into mindless killers. Do you think they would have hesitated to attack the other galactic races? Sometimes, the ends do justify the means."

"Understand, acted for same reasons. Still, impossible for words to completely ease doubt. Agree, more warfare likeliest outcome, but perhaps not, perhaps peaceful expansion. Cultural genocide difficult to create without decision haunting you in the future."

With another worried look back at the Drell, Shepard returned his gaze to Mordin, his voice suddenly dropping as he spoke. "How should we tell him we won't be able to cure him?"

"Already knows situation. Drell intelligent creatures, contrary to belief. Technologically behind upon their discovery, yes, but also had later origins than other species in galaxy. Advanced quickly, actually. Sadly, too slowly to save from their near extinction. But beside the point. Knows he has no hope, has suspected himself infected for awhile, and already faced the consequences. Brutal truth, but inescapable. Better he already knows for himself."

"Yeah. I just wish there was something we could do. Nobody deserves to die like the Drell have been since their relocation to Kahje. I can only imagine what Thane went through in his final weeks," Shepard said, shaking his head sadly. "I wish I could have been there for him. He would have wanted me there, I think."

"Irrational desire. You were dead, not held in contempt."

"I know, I know I couldn't have changed anything to be there. But still, somehow I feel that if his son dies as well, it'll somehow be on my shoulders, like something I could've prevented."

"Know feeling as well," Mordin conceded. "More so if no work is done to prevent. Will attempt to find cure, but probability of success before own death unlikely."

"Thanks, Mordin," Shepard said, giving the Salarian a grateful nod. "And don't worry, I think you've got much more than a year left in you. Let me know if there's anything I can do to help you out."

"Will ask if situation requires. Until then, should begin tests with on-hand materials. Perhaps introduction of carbon based compound to stabilize condition. But in what ratio, what element?" the doctor began to mutter to himself, shaking his head quickly as one idea was eliminated, only to be replaced immediately by another.

"Alright, good luck," Shepard wished, doubtful the Salarian had registered his words, preoccupied as we was with the new-found challenge.

In the hallway outside the room where Mordin puzzled over his new objective, and Kolyat disappeared inside his mind, Shepard slowly slid to the floor, holding his head in his hands.

"Is everything okay?" The words seemed to float across the room, soft, light as a feather, almost dreamlike.

"I'm fine, Liara," he said slowly, shaking his head slowly. "It's just, well, there's so much crap going on, I don't know if I can handle all of it. And what if we do die? We have no idea who's trying to kill us, or why. And one of these days, they're going to get to us, and at least one of us is going to die. What if that happens?" Shepard nearly shouted, his voice rising in sudden, inexplicable anger. "I was the one who brought everyone here into this in the first place. I honestly think you would've been better off if you never had met me."

"I don't believe that's true. If I'd never met you, I'd have starved to death trapped deep underground in a pile of Prothean ruins, or ended up indoctrinated and under Sovereign's power. Tali would've been killed by Fist's men back on the Citadel. Garrus would've been called on to give his life to defend the Citadel when the geth attacked. Ashley Williams would be dead on Eden Prime in the first attack."

"A lot of good that did her. Either way, she wound up dead," replied the Spectre bitterly.

"After four years," Liara pointed out. "And in that time, she helped to stop the Reapers annihilating all existence. I'm not sure how all humans view that, but I believe that's four years well spent. And I'm still here, Garrus is still here, Tali's still here, and she loves you, Shepard. Would you take that all away?"

"If it meant your safety, I would in a heartbeat."

"But we don't have the luxury of living out these speculations. We're all here, now, alive and well. Please don't begrudge our decision to stay with you," Liara responded, her voice solid and unwavering.

"Tell that to Kolyat," Shepard answered sullenly.

"Don't be foolish, Shepard. He's a Drell who's spent almost his entire life on Kahje. He'd have ended up in this situation no matter what happened. Now he's in a better position to receive treatment then he ever would've back on that world, with instant access to high standard medical equipment, and a Commander who has enough money to purchase any newly required materials. You know everything I've said is true. So if you're prepared to stop feeling sorry for yourself, I'd appreciate to once again have that confident, headstrong fool we all know and love back in command."

"I'm sorry, you're right. It's just, all this stress is getting to me, one thing just piles up on top of everything else."

"You're not the only one who has any problems, Shepard," Liara said. "We know what's at stake here as well. We're already doing everything we can to get out of this, and taking all those other burdens on your shoulders isn't helping anyone. Do you have any idea what I went through in my tenure as an information broker? I've had more assassination attempts made against me than I can realistically keep track of, all of them by the Shadow Broker. If I can survive those completely on my own, apparently while a double agent works against me right under my nose, I'll live through a half-hearted attempt by some hack who thinks they have a bone to pick with us, especially now that I'm with some of the most skilled fighters, engineers, and biotics in the galaxy."

"To be fair, the only world class biotic we have on hand is you, so you can't really say that's a new addition," Shepard pointed out. "And I don't think whoever's doing this is just some crack head on the street, not with all the resources they've been able to bring out against us."

"Well, please pardon my exaggeration," Liara replied sarcastically, "But considering who we have on our side, I don't think we have much to worry about. No matter who is doing this, the Reapers were a far more dangerous foe."

"But in the fight against the Reapers, we only lost one man, and that was early in the fight, before we really had any semblance of a plan, long before we even began to know what we were doing. Now, these assassins have killed at least five of my old squad already, maybe more, and Councilor Anderson, and we aren't any closer to figuring out who did it, or why. I'd be much more capable of handling this situation if I wasn't fumbling in the dark."

"They were alone when they were killed, and completely unprepared for the attack. We're all here together, and waiting for someone to make a move against any of us. If anybody so much as raises a gun in our direction, we'll be ready for it."

"I appreciate the optimism, but that simply isn't true. Those other deaths were all assassinations, every one. Every time we leave the ship, someone could be camped out on a roof nearby waiting for any one of us to wander into the sights. He'd pull the trigger and get away before any one of us knew what was happening. Attacking us all together outright would be a stupid move, but someone could pick us all off one by one, and we still would be absolutely clueless as to the perpetrator." His voice rose as he continued, throwing his arms in the air in hopeless frustration as he finished, sitting back against the wall.

"I agree things aren't looking to well as it stands now, but we'll pull through this, just like always. In the end, this'll be just another one of those stories you can tell to the adoring masses."

"Most of the adoring masses still think I'm dead."

"You'll have plenty of time to fix that, I'm sure. You may be good at many things, Shepard, but keeping your presence a secret undoubtedly is not one of them," the Asari stated, her face remaining a mask only a moment before a small smile broke out across it at her own joke. Shepard chuckled half-heartedly a moment later, but the joviality died down as quickly as it had begun. "I know I'm not always the easiest to talk to, but if you ever need anything, I'll be here," Liara said quietly, turning away as she did so.

"Thanks, I appreciate that," Shepard answered. "Although, I wouldn't say you're hard to talk to. Whatever else it's done, that brokering gig you had going for awhile certainly has made you a better public speaker."

"Well, I couldn't exactly go about dealing secrets if I was stumbling over every word I say. Uncertainty gets you nowhere in that business."

"I imagine, but I'll have to take your word for it. That entire scenario doesn't exactly seem like something I would even entertain the notion of entering into."

"I used to agree with you in that regard," Liara conceded, "but now that I've experienced it, I'm not sure I could so easily walk away. Information is a powerful tool, Shepard, and there's something to be appreciated in its workings. At first, it was only to find the Shadow Broker, and make him pay for what he did to Feron, and what he tried to do to you, but over time, I was drawn deeper into my work. My work to hunt down the Broker continued to drive my efforts, but I no longer resented what I was required to do, even with the necessary violence required by that position."

"You enjoyed the violence?" Shepard asked suddenly, his voice taking on a harder, accusing edge.

"No, I've never enjoyed such primal acts, but rather understood their necessity in order to achieve my own objective, and I didn't let every threat I issued eat away at my conscience."

"That's quite a departure from the Liara I found in those Prothean ruins on Therum over four years ago."

"I don't think it's possible for anybody to remain the same after they see their own mother killed, no matter the situation," the Asari said sadly, looking determinedly down towards the floor, a hard stare making its way onto her face. "I still miss her, even though she wasn't always the most affectionate person one could ask for. Sometimes I still wonder what she would have thought of me if she saw what I became after Sovereign fell, if she hadn't fallen under his power. I just don't know what to think of myself anymore. I try to tell myself what I was doing was to rescue Feron, and sometimes that helps, but I never managed to accomplish that. I think I may just be another corrupt power monger who will do anything to stay in that position. Eventually, I gave up the work, but I don't know if that was out of some desire to preserve any semblance of goodness I could, or in an attempt to protect myself from the Shadow Broker."

"Liara, no matter what you say, you knew the Shadow Broker would continue to hunt you for what you had already done, and that abandoning your position would only serve to lose you the informational sources that could keep you aware of possible threats. You did leave to protect yourself, but it wasn't from the infamous Broker. You left to protect yourself from losing yourself to the position, in an attempt to retain the part of your personality that you felt had been extinguished with my own death. I feel obligated, however, to let you know that I felt you had never lost yourself to begin with."

"That's very kind of you, Shepard, but please don't try to patronize me. I know what I've done, and it scares me to think that I was the one committing those atrocities. I know I was a different person than you met on Therum; those acts don't come naturally to who I was. I just hope I get a chance at redemption before this is all over." The young Asari stood slowly up from where she had been sitting beside the commander, looking aged far beyond what her years would typically dictate. She reached out a slender, pale blue hand, Shepard quickly grabbing on and pulling himself to his feet.

"You know, somehow I can't help but feel that we've traded emotions over the course of this conversation," Shepard said matter-of-factly as he rose to a stand, leaning back comfortably against the wall.

"What do you mean?" Liara asked, looking mildly confounded.

"I mean, I came here feeling hopeless, and you helped bring me out of that, but it seems I've passed it on to you. I wonder if it's one of those conservation property deals, where nothing is ever destroyed, only altered or exchanged," he answered, smiling slightly, trying fruitlessly to lighten the mood that had descended on the small hallway between rooms.

"I don't believe the concept between balancing atomic equations applies to life in that sense," Liara responded.

"Well, I'll offer the same one that you've just given me. If you ever need to just come and talk, I'll be right here."

"Thanks, I appreciate that," she replied, mirroring the man's own words from mere minutes before, disappearing down the corridor into another room as she did.

Looking around him for a moment, Shepard began to walk purposefully forward, feeling the artificial gravity shift its pull beneath its feet for a moment, the change so small so as to only be noticeable to one familiar with faster than light flight. The doors to the small engineering room slid open as he strode briskly towards them. Garrus stood casually inside where Shepard had left him, glancing curiously over the small holographic systems that hovered above a small terminal in the center of the room. He looked up as the door opened, seeing the Commander's face through the blue hue of the image.

"You look like you've seen a ghost," he commented offhandedly. "Something wrong?"

"Nothing," Shepard lied quickly. "Have you seen Tali?"

"Not since she left with you. It shouldn't be too hard to find her, given the size of our current home sweet home," Garrus said, raising his hands above his head in mock pride. "You left here barely twenty minutes ago, anyway. It isn't as if she disappeared."

"Thanks for the help," Shepard responded sardonically. "The information in that little statement was quite enlightening."

"Thanks for your support, O, Captain, my Captain," Garrus answered with a small bow.

"What the hell is that?" The Commander asked, surprised.

"I learned it from Ash, way back when on the Sr-1. Seemed to piss you off back then, so I thought I'd try bringing it back."

"Garrus, this really isn't the best time to be bringing this up," Shepard stated exhaustedly. "I'm really not in the mood for this right now." Before the Turian could interject, Shepard wheeled on his heel, and exited the way he had come, leaving Garrus to stare perplexedly as the door closed once again behind his sudden retreat.

Shepard returned to the small room with the sleeper pods he had left so recently, yet seemingly so long ago. The Quarian still sat on the edge of the bed, transfixed by the orange glow emitted from the small tool before her, seemingly unaware of the new arrival.

"Any luck fixing the server?" Shepard asked from across the room.

"No," sighed, looking up only briefly to answer before her attention was once again pulled downward to the small device. "As far as I can tell, nothing's wrong with the server itself, and not a single one of the firewalls has been tampered with. It's as if something came in, completely circumvented every single security system, and erased the memory. The systems all work as they should, there just aren't any available programs to run, not even a flashlight or a simple extranet search. Even if security measures were completely absent, I didn't know this was even possible based simply on the tool's initial programming in its initial developmental stages."

"So they work, there's just nothing to work on?" Shepard clarified.

"That's what it seems, but that can't be right, I must have made a mistake somewhere in my appraisal."

"Knowing you, and I'd say if anyone can make that claim it would be me, you've already checked these results several times since I've been gone, right?" he asked.

"I have, but it's always possible…" Tali began before Shepard softly interrupted her.

"Have you considered that maybe you're reaction is correct? You know you're way around these technological things much better than anyone else I've ever met, or am ever likely to. The odds of you making a mistake in this even once seem astronomically slim, and making the same one numerous times I'd guess is next to impossible. And as is the case with two opposing impossibilities, one will end up being right, at least in cases like this. Maybe somebody else has figured out a way to achieve the impossible."

Tali stopped, seeming to consider his words a moment, running over the possibilities in her mind. As she did so, Shepard felt an unexplained weight press down on him as the Atlantic dropped out of its jump.

"Did we set a course for the Faryar system?"

"That's where the signal was, and being our only lead, I felt it best we should travel there to see where it leads, at least," Tali answered distractedly, her mind still elsewhere.

"I'd say the most likely outcome is another dead end, and several more people intent on our immediate destruction."

"That doesn't seem unlikely, but it's worth a shot."

Silence descended on the room for a moment more, before the vessel rocked violently, throwing Shepard roughly to the floor. Looking up, he saw Tali jerk backwards, her head impacting against the unforgiving case of the pod, her body falling limp beside him.

"You guys might want to grab onto something solid," came Joker's worried voice over the ship's comm system. "We're about to perform some evasive maneuvers."

* * *

**A/N: Well, I've already re-written this chapter several times, but no matter what I do, I can't seem to make myself absolutely pleased with the outcome. In short, if it sucks, I understand, and I'm really sorry. I did try to make it good, I really did, but for some reason, I just haven't been satisfied with any of the multiple rewrites. Just know that off all of them, this was still much better than the other options I had at my disposal, and I sincerely intend to work my ass off on the next chapter, and be completely anal retentive with it to make up for this one. **

**Either way, the time has come for this chapter's credit song:**

**Day Three: Pain - Ayreon**

http :/ www. youtube. com/ watch?v= c-ncSNUswVY


	31. Chapter 31

**A/N: Oh my God, this is by far the longest absence I've ever had, by far. I'd like to apologize profusely for that, and for my sudden drop off in any and all reviews, even though I do have a legitimate explanation. You see, The Crucible was by far the most rigorous performance I've ever had, and I've been working pretty much nonstop on that since early January. We just closed on Saturday. I had to work furiously to get this out, for auditions for the next play, Secrets in the Wings, are this Wednesday. So, I hope this absence hasn't led you to expect a 50,000-odd word chapter, for I just commenced work on it yesterday.**

**And, as is always the case, I'm eternally grateful to those of you who review consistently. Hell, I love all of you who read this. I just don't consciously comprehend that I love you unless you review. I love the concept I guess, if the emotions cannot be attached to a particular existence that remains anonymous. So, considering I barely understand what that last statement meant, I'll summarize: please read and review!  
**

Chapter 31

Consumed in Flame

With another violent jerk, the Atlantic dropped sideways, sending Shepard sliding quickly across the now steep incline of the smooth floor, Tali's unconscious body following. He winced at the glancing blow her head struck against the ground, desperately reaching out to grasp her limp body as it glided across the smooth surface. He reached out, fingers grasping at air before finally curling around the post of the sleeper pod where it was anchored firmly to the ship, knuckles turning white from the furious grip.

Struggling to pull himself to his feet, one hand still clutching the Quarian as if the slightest jostle could lose her to him, Shepard painstakingly dragged his body upwards. Finally, after an exhausting effort, he stood, adjusting his balance as the Atlantic's dodges of additional attacks sent the floor rocking wildly, the walls tilting nearly upon their sides with the motions.

Glancing down hurriedly at the motionless figure draped across his chest, Shepard hesitated, then, as quickly as the additional weight would allow, opened the nearest sleeper pod. He laid her still form gently within, sealing the lid above, rapidly glancing over the inner surface, assuring himself there were no gaps in the padding. Without looking back, he sprinted swiftly towards the door, yet another aggressive turn sending him stumbling towards the room's doorframe, bracing his shoulder a moment before they were struck a glancing blow by the unforgiving material. Inhaling sharply at the contact, Shepard paused briefly, letting the structure support his weight, before collecting himself and moving forwards, arm pressed flatly and awkwardly against his side.

As he reached the small ship's atrium, small red warning lights and sirens screamed a warning to all occupants. Garrus suddenly burst from one of the rooms, an assault rifle clutched firmly between his talons. A grimace stretched across his face, and he glanced quickly about, eyes lighting on Shepard after their brief search. Liara quickly followed the Turian's appearance, walking hurriedly to join the small congregation that stood in the center of the room.

"What happened? What is going on?" she asked worriedly, eyes flashing wildly about the Atlantic's interior as if the explanation was right before her.

"I'm not sure, but the answers aren't floating around in the air in here."

"Where's Tali?" Garrus spoke up suddenly. "It doesn't seem like you to leave her side, not anymore."

"She's in a sleeper pod."

"Not exactly the best time for a nap, I don't think," Garrus said, deftly stepping sideways in an attempt to regain his balance as the ship rocked once more.

"I'll explain later," Shepard responded, already pressing desperately ahead, moving resolutely forward to the cockpit, the other two racing behind him, quickly rejoining his side.

If the alarms outside had been loud, the ones that lined the interior of the pilot's compartment were positively deafening. A small holographic model of the ship was displayed and rotating in midair, several sections of the usual blue display yellowed, one even blackened, with a mere electronic marker indicating it as disabled. Lights played out in an esoteric dance across the complex monitors, some sequences too fast to be registered as anything other than a ceaseless montage of blurred color.

Joker's hands played out across the systems, his own movements adding to the incomprehensible motion. His head darted back and forth across the controls and the display screen elevated above the station. Stars shone bright and calm through the image, watching detachedly, observing the plight of the small ship below them. Shepard scanned urgently for their unseen aggressor, but the ship remained hidden firmly in anonymity.

Suddenly, a second violent jolt rocked the ship from stern to bow, the violent movement nearly identical to the first contact that had initiated the sudden assault. Before he could open his mouth, Joker's body contorted in the chair, leg smashing against the steel edge of the terminals, a resounding crack sounded throughout the cockpit like a gunshot, and for a moment there was silence save for the grating shriek of the alarms. Then, almost instantaneously, the pilot's howls of pain joined the piercing wail in a crescendo of cacophonic noise.

Quickly springing to the man's side, Shepard lifted the slumped form from his agonized huddle, pulling Joker back into the seat, alerting the man to their presence, the action accompanied by the now soft moans of protest.

Knocked sideways and flipped unceremoniously by the second connection of the weapons of the foreign vessel on its target, the Atlantic's outer cameras were now focused squarely on the attacker, the opposing ship seeming to float upside down through the Cosmos. Shepard watched in horror as its guns slowly started to glow a soft red, the canons charging upwards once again for a final assault.

Garrus rushed up to his side, giving a cursory glance at the systems before stepping swiftly forward beside the chair, avoiding brushing against Joker's twisted leg. Slamming upwards on two of the controls, the Atlantic, in a sudden burst of artificial gravity that seemed to weigh down all its occupants, shot away from the guns that now centered on empty space.

"You can fly?" Liara asked incredulously from the entranceway, unable to fit within the already cramped space.

"Just a cursory knowledge," Garrus shot back distractedly. "I had to take some classes on the subject at C-Sec in case an emergency came up, but I'm not what you'd refer to as adept. So Joker," he added quickly, shifting focus. "If you can stay conscious as long as possible, please help me out here. I might as well be trying to dodge this thing in a floating tin can." A hint of desperation found its way into his voice, indicating the rapidly growing panic.

In response to his words, the pilot pointed drunkenly at a small cabinet suspended just out of his reach against the wall, his fingertips brushing against the glass casing but useless to open it. Sprinting forward, Shepard turned his face away, smashing through the glass panel with his elbow, small shards embedding themselves beneath the skin. Two small syringes hung from a rack within, one quickly withdrawn and passed into the pilot's hand, followed by the other.

Pausing only a moment, Joker stabbed the first into his leg, sighing for a split second as the painkiller began its rapid course through his veins, his eyes slowly opening. His face was still contorted into a violent grimace, but he once again reached out, hands moving once again across the system controls, albeit slower than they had done merely moments previously.

For the briefest moment, Shepard's eyes flitted across the flashing screens, the different lights indefinable and intricate to his untrained eye, and lit on the ship damage interface. Several more had blackened as well, disabled warnings plastered over the sections. His glance returned to the panicked, hysterical flailings of the pilot and the Turian that had joined him, only to be once again ripped back to the holographic model. The sleeper pod room from which he had just left moments earlier was now darkened, hidden between two still functioning areas. The display seemed so calm in its proclamation of destruction, where Tali still lay unconscious, that it ignited an inexplicable rage in the man's chest, as if the readout had caused the attack in the first place.

Without a moment's hesitation, he swiveled where he stood, and pressed wildly towards the door, the Asari woman struggling wildly to extricate herself from his unwavering course.

The small connecting corridors passed by him in a blur, the man not pausing even as others began to creep tentatively from side rooms, shouting frantic questions as to what was going on. Jolts sent him stumbling wildly to the side, but he forced his feet to grab hold of solid ground once again, propelled forward by violent, determined momentum. Finally, the door appeared in sight, the lights overhead blackened, casting the open space into deep shadows, obscuring the corners, the patterns shifting gently as with the flickering of a candle. From underneath the sealed door, the faintest glow could be discerned beneath the near perfect seal. The sensor above the door remained silent and still, no faint green glow accompanying the registration of a body, the passage itself as fastened and still as before.

A cursory glance through the shadows, the only distant light penetrating the thick night drifting from the bulbs that still remained on further away, revealed a loose metal shard, the severed material briefly catching the soft glow and reflecting it. The illumination itself was not bright, barely more than the soft glow of a cooling heat sink discarded, forgotten upon the ground, but in the heavy black, it seemed to burst through the murk like a beacon. With a slight tug, the shard ripped smoothly from the wall, the grating ringing as another violent roll rocked the ship, sending Shepard headlong into the jagged metal ends from which he had just torn away the fragment. The points pierced through the skin on his arm, beads of blood forming instantaneously against his shirt, the pinpoints unidentifiable in the gloom that had descended upon the small hall. Shaking his head, clearing it of the momentary pain, he rushed back towards the sealed door, shoving the splintered metal between the two edges, tugging frantically against the makeshift crowbar. Just as a giant split shot down the center of the scrap, sending it falling apart in his hands, the doors caught on their tracks and slid grudgingly into the surrounding walls.

The darkness was instantly banished, the sudden burst of piercing radiance forcing Shepard to press his arm before his face, watching the flickering glow dance along the now illuminated floor. Even more noticeable was the oppressive heat that forced the air momentarily from his lungs, sending the man doubling over as he choked on the rancid smoke. Forcing himself to lower his arm, he stood in shock only a moment. Flames licked at the walls, a portion of it ripped violently away. The toothed hole left behind by the forceful explosion created a passage, which, now consumed by the raging inferno, had led to a another room. Behind the wall of fire, the shape of a ruptured gas tank could be faintly made out, accompanied by an ominous hissing that was almost drowned out in the wild roar. The sleeper pods themselves were bathed in the glow, some already sizzling as the inside quickly cooked beneath the constant, violent heat. With a jolt of terror, Shepard watched with growing dread as the blaze began to slowly creep up the one that still held the unconscious Quarian.

He wasted no further time in hesitation. His neck bent forward as he once again raised an arm above his head, as if warding off a blow. The brutal temperature begin to singe his skin, the blood that still flowed from his wound congealing almost as soon as it reached the surface, after a moment beginning to turn it brown and brittle.

It didn't take long to reach his destination; after merely seconds the sealed lid rested before him, emitting a faint sizzling as the life support systems began to burn out beneath the ravenous flames. Just before the searing conflagration could reach his hand, Shepard slammed forcibly down on the release button, and, after a brief, agonizing pause, the lid raised itself gently on slowly melting hinges. As it opened further, the pod covering began to sag downwards, the supports finally falling away from the side, the object smashing into the floor with a shudder.

Within, Tali's thin figure continued to recline in peaceful repose, oblivious to the immediate peril. With a grunt, he pulled the still form from her place of slumber, a further violent heave beneath his feet sending Shepard tripping with the added deadweight. Her feet finally slipped over the edge, the man bearing the weight unaware as a booted foot became momentarily ensnared against the edge of the pod, a trail of fire creeping lazily up her leg in the brief pause.

The hallway outside was no longer bathed in the deep shadows, now awash with a harsh orange light, the encroaching darkness banished even from the corners. Staggering drunkenly beneath the deadweight, the heat still extending in searing waves, Shepard struggled down the corridor, every step threatening to send him collapsing to the floor. A final jerk of the ship sent the man reeling, the body slung across his shoulders falling across his back. The movement brought a sudden, blinding, burning pain. He began to writhe, almost unconsciously, against the cold metal floor, the anguish slowly subsiding to a stinging, as if his back was being stabbed in unison by dozens upon dozens of needles.

Blinking his eyes open, he looked around in a panic at the sudden inexplicable onslaught, the world momentarily obscured by a thick haze across his sight. It took only a moment for him to recognize the tears that had sprung to his eyes, now webbing a thin film across them. The only decipherable image was a glow of yellow and orange dancing across the blurred grey backdrop. It took only a moment for him to register he was no longer facing the room that housed the blaze. Quickly blinking away the unshed tears, grunting in pain as he rolled off his scorched back, he saw the source of the smaller flames, the pain instantly evaporating as panic sent waves of adrenaline coursing through his veins.

Tali lay motionless on the floor, a trail of fire leisurely working its way along her prone form. A desperate glance down into the burning room gave a clear view of the lone emergency vacuum suit slowly disappear beneath the raging orange maw.

"God damn it!" His voice came out desperate, hopeless, mind reeling as he tried to think of an alternative to extinguish the flame before they completely ravaged her body. Sprinting and kneeling by her side, Shepard quickly pulled a pair of emergency gloves from a pocket on the side of his thin jacket, reaching down and patting down on the small blaze even as he continued to pull the gloves over his hands.

"Help! Damn it, somebody!" The panicked voice echoed down the length of the corridor. After a few moments that stretched into an eternity, the sound of pounding footsteps could be heard, their owner just out of sight. A second pair joined the first, the images of their makers coming into focus at the opposite end of the hallway soon after. Garrus and Mordin simultaneously broke into a sprint as they viewed the scene spread out surreally before them.

"Grab vacuum sealant from office," Mordin said without hesitation, turning briefly toward the mortified Turian. At the momentary pause in the latter's reaction, he quickly added several pleas to hurry.

As Garrus once again disappeared from sight, the Salarian squatted desperately beside the Commander, helplessly watching as he futilely tried to quell the flames, seemingly unaware of the fire that now traveled scorchingly along his own arm.

"Shepard, should leave alone," Mordin began half-heartedly. "Will do no good, only risking injury to yourself." His statement was met only with the continued roar of the conflagration further down the hall. "Should move," he persisted, now accentuating the statement by pressing a firm hand against the man's shoulder. Shepard pushed it off roughly, persevering with his fruitless struggle to quell the flames that still slowly consumed Tali's still figure. A grimace was plastered across his face as the trail that extended the length of his arm began to break through the haphazard seal he had quickly formed between the uniform's sleeves and the thick gloves.

Collecting himself a final time, Mordin extended his arm once more, pushing back suddenly on the man, sending the Commander sprawling shocked to the floor.

"Mordin, what the hell are you…?" he began furiously, before being quickly cut off.

"Will do no good. Only hope now is Garrus." He paused briefly, eyes widening as he noticed the still burning flames peeking out from beneath the gloves that remained on Shepard's hands, the man seemingly oblivious save for the pain plastered across his face. Before the doctor could interrupt him further, he returned to Tali's body, flailing desperately once again at the undying foe.

Immediately, the pounding of heavy booted footsteps could be heard sprinting down the hall, Garrus quickly returning, relieving his momentary burden into Mordin's outstretched arms. "Shepard, asked politely before, but now must move. Now hurting her chances of survival as well as yourself," he said, voice hinting at a subdued anger.

The Commander fell backward, as if a weight had collapsed upon his chest, finally allowing his mind to comprehend the searing pain that stabbed and tore at his hand. When he looked down, his eyes widened in surprise at the sudden ghastly image. Ripping the glove off, he patted furiously at the small pyre. Small chunks of blackened skin flaked off with the intense thrashing. As the curls of smoke finally disappeared, he stared in horror at the scarred, misshapen skin, pink muscle peeking out in scattered places where the skin had completely disappeared.

Breathing through clenched teeth, his thoughts immediately were ripped back to the Quarian collapsed on the floor, the modified vacuum chamber draped over her unmoving outline, the flames quenched. He looked once more in horror down at his own hand, mentally projected the image across the full bottom half of his body. A lump rose to the back of his throat, and he rushed forward, wanting to avert his eyes from what he might see, but unable to turn away.

The temporary vacuum chamber was removed from her body. A small gasp of shock rose unconsciously from Shepard's throat. Garrus cast his eyes downward, eyes growing slowly vacant, despairing.

Small, scattered pieces of her suit's fabric still remained, charred and smoldering, the material disintegrated in others. Her skin had turned a bright red beneath the blaze, the membrane distorted, stretched so tightly in some places, that it became nearly translucent, other spaces completely obscured beneath thick, twisted folds. The scraps of her old prison that still did remain had fused nigh inseparably to her body. The devices in her helmet's systems had all ceased to exist, her shallow breathing coming loud and ragged, the sound distorted beneath the casing behind which it was still contained.

"Bring her to lab!" Mordin shouted frantically. "No second to spare!"

* * *

**A/N: Credits song: (Note: This is a long song. It's also my favorite song of all time, so I recommend you listen to the full thing, both parts.)**

**Seventh Wonder - The Great Escape**

**Part 1: **http :/ www. youtube. com /watch?v= K0_BXj0hph4

**Part 2: **http :/ www. youtube. com /watch?v= tUVrvFMMtjA


	32. Chapter 32

**A/N: At long last! I can essentially guarantee, that, barring some insane twist of fate, this is the longest you will ever have to wait for an update to this story on my account. That was ridiculous, I know. I'd try to justify it, but in the end, a lot of it came down to just having the approximate attention span of a fly. That, coupled with crippling writer's block for the last couple months, seriously delayed this update. But I'm over that hurdle now, at least for the moment, and summer has started, so look for an update more frequently than once every two months! Until then, please read and review, and I hope you enjoy it.**

Chapter 32

Retribution

The painkillers finally began to dull the agony of his shattered leg. There was also something to be said for the rush of adrenaline that accompanied the sudden attack. Still, the pain remained excruciating, and the pilot felt his teeth pierce the soft flesh of his tongue, the taste of iron flooding his mouth. The new pain seeming to momentarily detract from the old, before both arrived in full force. He gritted his teeth, staring ahead at the camera's projection before him, taking only a moment to align the craft with the mass relay. Without further hesitation, the ship jumped forward at his deceptively light touch, the blue glow of the mass relay slowly appearing through the inky black of the sky. Hands white in their intense grip on the steering mechanism, he throttled the small ship forward, pushing it to punishing extremes, the engine grinding at the strain.

"Careful, if the engine malfunctions now we don't have an engineer to fix it," came Miranda's warning voice behind him.

"Damn it, I don't need a back space-ship driver!" Joker shouted angrily, eyes not breaking contact with the glowing monitor before him, too intent to focus on the implications of her words. "And if you're worried about the engines blowing out now, I recommend taking a deep breath, because things are going to get a lot worse before they get better." Once more silent, Joker stretched one hand to his side, resting it across the reverse lever. Just before they reached the relay, he yanked it downwards, the grating of the engines turning to a metallic shriek in protest.

"What the Hell are you doing?" Miranda shouted anxiously over the noise rolling into the cockpit from the machinery.

"Getting us out of here alive. You can thank me later."

"If we aren't all burned to crisps by that point, I'll be sure to do that."

"I'll be counting down the minutes," Joker replied sarcastically, still not tearing his focus from the relay.

"Which one of those eventualities is it you're counting down to, exactly?"

"We'll find out soon enough."

Suddenly, the device caught, the engines spinning to negate the forward momentum, the sudden shift causing all manner of materials to cascade to the floor. Miranda caught herself quickly on a rail before following, settling her feet unsteadily on the floor once again. As she glanced up to check their progress, the relay loomed in the display, powerful and incomprehensible.

She steadied herself for the rush of acceleration, the distortion of space and time, but it did not come, the Atlantic instead grinding slowly to a halt, the shift slowly making itself known in the floor, then the artificial gravity as Miranda felt a weight press down on her shoulders, trying to drive her body into the ground. After a few moments, it once again began to lift, raised by invisible hands, the floor swaying subtly beneath her feet. Her hand remained tightly clenched on the bar, knuckles whitened from the grip. Looking down, she saw a pleased smile stretched across Joker's face, the expression quickly losing a battle to one of pain as the adrenalin slowly died in his blood.

"We need to get you to the med bay," Miranda spoke up quickly, resting a hand on his shoulder.

"No," Joker quickly responded, shoving her hand off. "I got us past those ships, but they won't stay gone. We need to get to where we're going, now."

"Joker, I've flown shuttles for the Illusive Man. I might not have been able to handle the Normandy, but I can handle this one quite easily. It's little more than a glorified floating box, in actuality. Besides, you'll be going into shock fairly quickly. I'm surprised you haven't succumbed all ready, to be honest, but when it strikes, genius or no, you'll be in no position to evade a leisure cruise, much less two battle ships hell-bent on our destruction."

"That was a great speech Miranda, very inspiring, but I think I'll wait until I reach that point where I don't function before I abandon the Norm…" Joker cut himself off, bowing his head at the words. He corrected himself, his voice softer, melancholic. "I miss that ship."

"I won't disagree," Miranda said, nodding slowly. "But this isn't a relevant topic at the moment, and we need to get you treatment immediately. The ship will hold its course while we're gone, as I'm sure you know. They teach Newtonian physics in flight training."

"Fine," Joker sighed, attempting an air of indifference, quickly lost in favor of another painful grimace.

"Do you need me to carry you there?" Miranda asked, concerned as the pilot struggled to keep upright, even as he leaned against her, her body supporting his weight.

"No," he lied through gritted teeth. "I can make it."

Miranda silently contemplated a moment before responding. "I'll them you passed out. It's quite a realistic excuse." Before he could argue, she swiftly reached a hand under his knees and lifted the protesting man's feet from solid ground. His head dangled limply across her forearm as he half-heartedly complained about the situation, eventually even the feeble protests dying off. By the time they reached the med bay, his eyes had shut.

The door opened as she approached, the panels sliding away into the wall. The odor of burned flesh choked her nearly instantaneously, a gruesome sight meeting her eyes. Tali lay unconscious, draped unceremoniously across the only bed in the room, large chunks of the fabric of her environmental suit melded with the skin beneath. The sections of skin that still remained uncovered were pink and jagged, muscle peering through a multitude of gaps. Shepard crouched at her side, her still gloved hand clenched tightly in his, tears streaming freely down his face. Mordin rushed frantically about the place, hands reaching for tools, medicines, anything he could find scattered about the small room. No one noticed as she walked in, laying Joker softly on a bare space of floor, until the man's groan at the contact alerted the other two to their presence. The Salarian simply nodded his understanding, motioning for her to exit.

Miranda stepped back out into the main hall, for the first time noticing the three pairs of eyes trained upon her. Garrus stood to the left of the med bay, a gun clenched in his talon, determined expression plastered across his face. Kolyat stood silently brooding in the corner, Liara's gaze dancing nervously about the craft's interior as she waited by the young Drell's side. The doorway to the sleeper pods had been sealed off, the inside vented to the expanse of space.

"Are they gone?" Kolyat's voice reached her ears cold and distant, almost as if the question was a mere formality, caring not about the answer.

"For now," she replied. "Joker is a tough son of a bitch. But we're not out of the woods yet. I'm still not entirely sure what he did; he didn't have time to explain, but I do know we're the only ship still in the system. Has anyone here had any luck finishing the trace on that signal?"

"It leads to Alingon, the fifth planet," Garrus answered.

"At least it's reasonably close, then. Whatever we find down there had better be worth what it took to get here. Although in all honesty, I had a feeling this is where we would be headed."

"The base of the Shadow Broker," Liara muttered. "This place has haunted me these last two years."

"Personal feelings are beside the point," Miranda retorted. "We're here for answers as to what's going on, not past grudges."

"I doubt the Broker will see it as reasonably," Liara shot back. "Perhaps this will finally reveal his location."

"There will be no undue trouble on this trip. If you stumble across what you're looking for, by all means take it, but I'm not willing for you to endanger everyone else's safety to help your personal vendetta," the ex-Cerberus woman said coldly.

"I don't take orders from you," the Asari responded, matching her tone to that of the other woman's. "I'm here for Shepard. We all are. I'm not sure what kind of power play you're trying to pull here, but in my time as an information broker, I found a fair bit of information on you. I know everything about you, Miss Lawson. And the first rule of fighting, as I'm sure you know, is to never reveal yourself to the opponent. Keep a surprise always in store. You have no surprises. I have details of everything from your genetic enhancements, to your sister. How is the little Oreo, by the way?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Miranda said firmly.

"Oh, that's another thing. You're excellent at lying. Anybody lacking deeper information would be inclined to believe you. But there's always someone listening. Conversation is information and information is power. Everyone wants power. They heard the tearful reunion. They heard the questions about your existence. They heard, 'Good-bye, little Oreo.'" A sudden look of horror passed across Liara's visage at her own words. "I…I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me. I wasn't thinking rationally."

"I sincerely hope it won't happen again," Miranda said threateningly. "I will not allow anyone to make the same mistake you have of insulting my sister." She spun quickly on her heel and stormed out the door, making her way to the helm.

"What the Hell are you thinking?" Garrus hissed angrily as the door to the cockpit slid shut.

"The last time I saw that woman before we were on this ship, she brought Shepard's body to the Illusive Man, where they revived him to be their pawn. Shepard was little more than a slave because of what she helped to do."

"If I remember correctly, you were the one who sold him to them in the first place. Liara, I despise Cerberus and everything it stands for, but don't try to alleviate your own guilt by pushing it on them. Take some damn responsibility."

A silence descended once again on the three remaining occupants of the hall, Liara sinking to the floor, laying her head in her arms. She quickly looked up once more to face Garrus. "Am I monster?"

"Honestly, I think all biotics are a bit scary. I used to have nightmares about one hiding under my bed as a child," the Turian responded, laughing apologetically, trying to lighten the tension.

"Garrus, I'm aware you have all the sophistication of a child, but this is a serious question. You've known me since we fought against Saren. Only four years have passed since then, and I'm still barely more than an adolescent. But what have I become?"

"I agreed with every word you said."

"That doesn't answer my question. Aren't you worried what I might do?"

"First of all, never use a leading question if you aren't sure of the answer. Secondly, I have not a fear in the slightest. That's what this damn fear does. Everybody on this ship, every last one, is terrified out of their wits right now, myself included. It brings out the worst in people. I've seen things like this countless time on the Fleet, before a battle. Sometimes it even got to be quite the entertainment. People would make bets on who would be the first to back down in one of the fights. I never took one, of course, I'm not what you would call the luckiest gambler."

"Have you ever tried to push your own guilt onto other people's shoulders?" Liara suddenly asked, after a brief pause.

"Incessantly. Just because I give you advice doesn't mean I follow it."

Liara was silent a moment more, deciding whether to accept his words. Eventually, her eyes cleared, only to cloud once more as her eyes fell on the med bay doors. "Do you think she's going to be okay?"

"Yes," Garrus answered adamantly. "She's the toughest damn Quarian I ever laid eyes on. It's going to take more than a burn to do her in."

* * *

"Is she going to be okay?" Shepard's voice was thick, heavy with the tears he had just spent.

"Should live. Everything else uncertain. Have to wait and see."

"Those God damn sons of bitches are going to pay." The words were a statement, an iteration of fact. "You told me the signal came for Alignon. Whoever's there must have been against us seeing what's going on down there. I'm going to find what that is, and then I'm going to make sure they get a fair price for what they've done."

"Shepard, dangerous words. Can't let emotions cloud better judgment."

"You make it sound as if this was a difficult decision. No, Mordin, this _is_ my better judgment. I'm not always a fan, but on occasion, justice can be a beautiful thing. Those people wanted us dead. Is it so wrong to harbor the same thoughts? This is basic survival, to be willing to go the same lengths as your enemy. It's why my species still exists today. This isn't just the better decision, this is the only decision."

"Can discuss further later. At moment, pressing concern regarding planet itself. Heard mentioned that this houses Shadow Broker base. If so, very dangerous situation."

"I couldn't agree with you more. Which is why we need a contingency plan."

* * *

Miranda's heavy steps caught the attention of the room's two occupants, her anger still evident.

"Thanks for the drink, Mordin," Shepard said as he downed the glass, setting it back upon the table. "Yes, Miranda?"

"We're breaking atmo," she responded curtly.

"So it begins," Shepard muttered to himself. "Mordin, you grab Kolyat and keep him on the ship. I want more than one able body here for defense. Everyone else is coming with me."


End file.
